Rising Ambitions
by coffeelatte
Summary: ...Had she just landed on the Child of God? ...Oh, she was so screwed. YukimuraOC. Some mild language. Rewritten.
1. Jumping Off of Second Story Windows

**A/N:** LOL SO UM I REWROTE THE FIRST CHAPTER _AGAIN_. And I'm going to be rewriting the rest of the chapters soon, up until like maybe chapter 10-ish? This is just because my writing style developed and improved towards the end, and I just wanted it to be consistent! No worries, nothing will be taken down, just gradually replaced!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

* * *

"Nori-chan, Nori-chan, guess what?" an excited babble joined the raucous fray of the chattering classroom. At the sound of her name, a girl raised her head from her arms, sleepiness scrawled across her features. A lazy yawn escaped her lips; the girl began to shake her head slowly in an attempt to clear her hazy, post-sleep vision, accompanied with a rub of her eyes.

"Hm?-" another yawn. "What?"

A familiar gleam entered the first girl's eyes, and Noriko quirked an amused brow. Ah, ah, really – Ai had this strange obsession with knowing everything about _everyone_, and sometimes Noriko wondered how the girl got on with so much _knowing_ all over the place. Before Noriko could comment, though, Ai was rocketing away already-

"Well, I heard that _Yukimura Seiichi _is coming back! He's been discharged!"

Noriko blinked languidly at the news, eyes glazed with blank curiosity; most certainly not the reaction Ai had been hoping for, if the exasperated roll of her eyes was anything to go by. Yukimura…Yukimura…why was that name so familiar- Ohhhh.

The _sick boy_, was it? Well, that's what Noriko had him labeled as in her head, anyway; she'd transferred mid-year, quite _after_ the initial fuss had begun about the so-called 'Child of God,' as he was called. And before she had a chance to really set into the fuss over Yukimura, he'd been carted off into the hospital and on a leave from school. Sometimes, though, Noriko wondered at what kind of a guy could have earned himself the nickname as a _Child of God_?

Must be some monster of an athlete, she hummed.

Noriko, due to family reasons, had transferred out of Rikkai Dai in her second year and returned her third year. And apparently, in that single year gap, Yukimura Seiichi and his tennis team had made quite the history at the school.

Befitting of his nickname, the entire school seemed to be on some 'Yukimura' rave; girls, boys, _teachers_, even, were constantly mentioning his name in passing comments as though it were a natural part of their daily lives. It kind of unnerved Noriko, to be honest, but- if the guy was brilliant enough to be called divine, well, who was she to judge?

In fact, he was such an impressive person that even _Kirihara Akaya_, that horrendous second year, respected him-! Noriko had bumped into that kid, once, to be rewarded with a sight of _blood red eyes_; to this day she dearly hoped that those were some colored contacts, instead of his actual eyes.

"Ah, really?" Noriko finally drawled in reply, noticing her friend's expectant smile. She couldn't really bring herself to feel as much excitement as the rest of the school seemed to, not when she didn't even know what the guy looked like. Ai frowned at her in disapproval.

"Oh, whatever," Ai muttered irritably. "You're such a spoilsport sometimes, you know that?" Ai paused then, a pensive look dawning on her face. "Oh hey - didn't you say that today was the regular selection matches?"

Shiori Noriko, starting striker for the Rikkai Dai girls soccer team; not unlike the rank of the boys tennis team itself, the girls soccer team was the reigning champion in the middle school circuits at the national level. And, well – everyone was familiar with Rikkai Dai's do-or-die motto of 'whatever it takes.' For the girls, it meant staying on top of one's game at all times; being a regular was a _privilege_, and rotational regular selection matches took place at least once a month to keep everyone on their toes.

Noriko had continually been the team's striker since she'd transferred back to the school, but- rules were rules, the Captain always harrumphed, whistle in between her lips. At the thought of the Captain, Noriko grimaced.

And at the thought of the team, and the _Captain_, a horrendous realization barreled into Noriko. For the love of _god_, she was _in_ the matches-! "Oh, shi-" she began, before cutting herself off before the entire profanity made itself past her lips. She offered a sheepish smile to Ai, before: "Damnit, Ai, why didn't you tell me sooner? I'm late," she wailed.

Ai huffed and planted her hands on her hips. "What do you mean, 'why didn't I tell you sooner'? You should know these things better than I do! Honestly, Noriko, you're so addle-brained all the time, it's a miracle you even remember to eat and brush your teeth-"

But Noriko was already off, duffle bag slung haphazardly across her shoulder, stumbling out of the classroom; Ai tended to be a bit of a mother hen, sometimes, constantly berating her. Noriko left her mother at home when she came to school, thank you very much!

When she scrambled into the hallway, she looked with a groan down the long hallway, imagining the flight of crowded stairs and even more crowded hallways later on that she'd have to pass through to even get outside the building. And after _that_, she'd have to run _all the way around the building_, and then to the fields-

A ticking clock made itself heard in her mind. Oh, jesus, Captain would wring her neck for being that late! With a desperate purse of her lips, Noriko lunged towards the window, attempting to judge the distance between the windowsill and the floor below.

It was only the second floor – she should be able to jump it, right? People didn't _die_ from falling from just the second floor, right? Tick, tock, tick, tock- with a resigned sigh, she pushed open the window and peeked down the hallway to make sure no teachers were coming.

She'd rather risk a broken leg than suffer the wrath of her captain – that girl was _scary_.

Noriko allowed the duffel bag to slip from her shoulders and onto the floor below; a clear 'Ow!' made itself heard from somewhere in the distance, but she didn't have time to think _that_ over. She swung her legs over the sill. "Watch out, if anyone's there!" she hollered haphazardly.

And without further ado, Shiori Noriko, third year, placed in the regular selection matches, nationally-ranked soccer star, jumped off the second story window of the famous Rikkai Dai Fuzoku B Building.

* * *

"OW! What the-"

The rest of the tennis regulars discreetly tuned out their youngest member as he began to unleash a string of curses and indecipherable words, a distinct tone of anger lacing each vicious syllable. Sanada gave an admonishing grunt – not that Kirihara really paid it much heed, when he was on a steaming roll.

Beside the second-year boy lay a yellow and black gym back, strewn harmlessly across the grassy patch. 'RIKKAI DAI FUZOKU GIRLS SOCCER TEAM' was written across the bag in bold white font, with a smaller 'SHIORI NORIKO' printed just below the label. Kirihara swiveled his head with a scowl to direct a heated glare at Niou and Marui, both of whom were snickering rather loudly.

Yanagi quietly bent down to examine the bag, brows raised and curiosity on his features.

And somehow, it had slipped everyone's minds that perhaps, ah, they should peer upwards to see just _where_ the bag had come from in the first place. That is, until it was too late, and they heard a distant 'Look out, if anyone's there!' – and by then, a figure was already seen descending rapidly from the sky, hurtling at an unbelievable speed-

-right towards their beloved _captain._

Seven pairs of eyes – some buggering out of their sockets, some horrified, a few delightedly amused – stared in absolute stark silence at the black shadow that fell rapidly towards the blue-haired head of Yukimura. The only person to dart into action was Kirihara himself, whom attempted to run towards his captain in time to push him out of the way – unfortunately, the boy tripped over the duffel bag on the floor.

Sprawled on the ground, he whipped his head at the object with bared teeth, unleashing another string of colorful curses towards the bag.

Sanada, then, vein bulging from his neck, bellowed "Yukimura – _move!_"

But rather than heeding the cry, Yukimura simply formed a gentle arch with both his arms – and as the black shadow finally hit Yukimura, he caught 'it' instead. When he peered curiously down at the figure now carried securely in his arms, he found a bewildered – and obviously confused – girl staring back through wide eyes.

And Noriko? Noriko, was, well, rather _bewildered_ that there had actually been someone beneath her – and even moreso that that someone had taken to _catching_ her. For a moment, she wasn't quite sure what to do, so she simply sat there, flabbergasted, eyes wide and lips opening and closing like a fish.

Finally, _finally_, she found words to slip past her lips. "I, um- well- I _did_ call out for people to move," she managed to stammer sheepishly, but instantly closed her mouth when Kirihara – oh, hey, why was he here? – directed a baleful, _glowering_ glare in her direction. Sheesh, why was he so angry, too? It wasn't as if she'd landed on _him._

Yukimura…Yukimura wasn't surprised, per say – this was Rikkai Dai, after all, no use in being surprised over girls throwing themselves off of second stories. Though, he had to admit, this wasn't exactly the welcome he'd expected upon his return – of course, Niou had joked about girls throwing themselves into his arms, but he hadn't really thought there'd be a literal manifestation of said actions.

And somewhere in the background, he heard Sanada quite possibly _frothing_ at the mouth (from half anger and half shock, he was sure), Niou and Marui howling with laughter, and Kirihara, screaming obscenities at the girl and the duffel bag in turn. All this, Yukimura had to admit – was quite a delightfully amusing first day back.

He let the girl down, and if anything, the tension in the air doubled.

Noriko took a step to regain her balance, before looking up with a sheepish expression at the enraged – and laughing – males around her. Oh, geez, why were they all staring at her as though she'd murdered their unborn child? "That was- er- quite a fall, huh?" Even Noriko's forced laughter died quickly in the face of the others' glares.

She swallowed.

"So, uh...hey. I'm-I'm Shiori Noriko," she gave a little grin, wiping her hand hurriedly on her soccer shorts before extending it to the blue-haired boy.

Yukimura raised a brow, a small smile still plastered on his face.

Noriko squirmed under his gaze, before forcing a cough and a smile on her own lips.

Finally, Yukimura took the hand. "Yukimura Seiichi. A pleasure," he said, and Noriko blinked in surprise.

She knew it was a strange thought, but she'd never heard a male's voice to be quite as…_silky_? His voice reminded her of…velvet, as strange as that may seem. Now – why was that name so familiar? Yukimura…Yukimura... she was certain she'd heard that name just a few minutes earlier-

It registered in her mind with a small 'click.'

Yukimura Seiichi.

Yukimura Seiichi, the sick boy.

Noriko found herself swallowing again. "Ah…you can't mean _Yukimura Seiichi_, as in…the Child of God-"

Yukimura's smile widened.

Noriko felt her heart drop into her gut.

...Had she possibly just fallen on the _Child of God?_

"Oh, shit," passed her lips before she could even think of what she was saying.

Oh, dear god. She'd found it weird that all the boys around her were wearing tennis regular jerseys; of _course_. He was the bloody _captain_ of them all-! Hysterical laughter bubbled up from her throat, but she squished it down quickly enough.

He was the captain of Rikkai Dai's tennis team - the one with the miracle recovery from his disease.

The _Child of __**God.**_

Oh, dear lord.

She's just hurtled her body at a child of God.

There was going to be a special, _special_ hell for her in the afterlife.

Noriko's eyes went wide, and suddenly, being late for soccer practice didn't seem all that terrifying – not when she compared it to the hostile glares of seven pairs of eyes in front of her. "Uh...well, uhm...congrats on recovering from cancer, man," Noriko laughed nervously, forcing a painful grin on her face.

She dropped it when the rest intensified their glares, except for Yukimura, who's smile only grew wider at her terror.

"I mean...must be hard, huh? Cancer and tennis and all?" Noriko tried again; gee, this smile hurt her face.

Kirihara's glare intensified. What kind of _moron_ was in front of him-

Yukimura's smile never once wavered. Well, it was only to be expected; 'sick-boy' was how most regarded him. Since his admittance into the hospital, his reputation as a tennis player had gone down considerably; he'd even heard rumors that he wasn't a good tennis player flying around.

And he'd been too sick to display his real skills, and the rumors had gone on.

That was what happened when an emperor left his throne - his throne vanished.

"Well, uh, I think that's pretty cool," Noriko smiled, this time for real. She rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "I mean, I don't know you that much and I just heard the rumors, but personally, I think it's really admirable that you recovered for your team," Noriko grinned.

…Well, wasn't that a unique response?

Suddenly, a beep sounded from Noriko's hand, and she looked down at her cell. A text had arrived from a fellow player on the team, informing her that-

"Oh, _crap._ I'm even more late - and Captain's looking for me...you've gotta be kidding me!" Noriko gave one last nervous glance at the group of still-angry boys, and giggled nervously. "Well, uh...I gotta go," Noriko grabbed her black duffel bag from the floor, recoiling almost immediately when she saw the hiss Kirihara gave her. She sped off, not daring to look back.

"Yanagi-senpai, who the hell was that?" Kirihara hissed, nursing his knee in a stance not too unlike a hurt animal.

How _dare_ that girl? Was she a _moron_? She'd dared to call Mura-buchou the 'tennis player with cancer'-?

Not only that, she'd dared to hit his, the great Kirihara-sama's, head, with a damn _duffel bag_? That was more than enough strikes in his book to warrant _death._

The data-player cleared his throat, then, a sly smile overtaking his features, before:

"She's a soccer player, and she can be found in tournaments dating back to when she was a child; she's been playing for quite some time. She seems to be from a well-off family; her father's a judge and her mother's a trophy wife. She's a third year, birthday is October 15th, currently 15 years old, favorite food is sushi, body measurements-"

"That is _enough_, Renji!" Sanada coughed.

Sanada fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; he needed to stop meeting Tezuka so often. He was adopting the other teen's stressful habits, he found. That, and his team developed that Seigaku's team's _weird habits._

In any case, Sanada had known something would go dreadfully wrong today, when he'd broken his sister's hand-mirror that morning. He wasn't a usually paranoid or superstitious person in any way, but something in the bottom of his gut had told him that today was a bad day.

His horoscope had said so.

He should take Yukimura for a check-up later today, just to be sure he was okay.

Yukimura let out a laugh, and beckoned his team to continue their trek to the tennis courts.

Marui was still blinking and processing what had happened, and Niou had laughed through it all. Jackal was, well…restraining a furious Kirihara who looked as if he'd dash off and commit bloody murder, and Yagyuu and Renji were smiling with amusement.

Sanada breathed a sigh of exasperation.

Their captain was too easy-going for his own good.

One was a sugar-high idiot.

One was a fool who found anything unpleasant funny.

One was on the path to becoming a bloodthirsty murderer.

One was a human computer.

One was a 'gentleman' who was secretly a sadist.

Only two were normal on the team, as Sanada saw it: him, and Jackal.

Actually, Sanada pinched the bridge of his nose as he saw Jackal looking at Marui's mini-cake collection with interest, there was only one normal person.

Himself.

And he wasn't very safe, either.

**CHAPTER FIN**

**READ & REVIEW PLEASE!  
**


	2. Climbing Up Tennis Court Gates

**A/N:** Hi, guys…yeah it's been a long time since the last update, so…here it is! X) Oh. And, um…If you read this chapter, you'll find out it's REALLY different from the previous version. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, and if you do, I'm so hugely immensely relieved. Please tell me what you think of this new Noriko! :D

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **Read the A/N at the bottom of the page!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own PoT.

* * *

The Rikkai Dai tennis courts were currently _engulfed_ in a myriad of screams, all pertaining to some form of "YUKIMURAAAA!" Girls from every grade and every class crowded around one another in an attempt to catch a better glimpse of the tennis players, and they were so numerous that they had fanned out to almost overrun the walking path that crisscrossed the school grounds.

In fact, as Noriko would later point out, they looked like a swarm of hungry _bees._

Some of the males took to walking around campus with their hands shoved deep inside their pockets, muttering to themselves in irritation, all the while sending occasional pointed glares towards the courts. The tennis team had always been popular, to be sure, but ever since their captain's return, their popularity had _skyrocketed_ to the point where it was becoming ridiculous. And, well, how could they, the _normal_ males of the school, compete with those pretty boys that were incredible athletes?

Girls hardly spared them a second glance.

Noriko walked towards the area now with Kamemiya Saya – captain of the Rikkai Dai girls' soccer team. Whilst Noriko had a fierce love for the sport, Saya's enthusiasm for the sport was bordering more on _manic avidness._ Then again, Noriko always supposed that one needed such a level of dedication if one was to be the captain of a national champion team.

Saya wasn't the tallest girl, and when she walked next to Noriko (who was 5'6, rather tall for a girl of Japanese descent), she looked very, very small at 5'3.

Both girls glanced at the girls clamoring for the tennis team, and Saya paused to give a contemptuous flick of her short, sleek bobbed hair, before huffing in irritation. "Seriously; they're just _boys_. These girls should find something better to scream about," Saya sniffed.

Noriko only laughed and continued to swing along her duffel bag cheerily. "I dunno," she mused. "I think it's kinda cute," she grinned, and winked at Saya, who only rolled her eyes in turn.

Noriko turned her attention back to the screaming fans; in the back of her mind, she wondered if all that screaming ever gave any of them sore throats. From the looks of it, apparently not. Nevertheless, she found herself rather impressed by the sheer number of dedicated fans the team has: "I wonder why we don't have as many fans as them," she asked, only to be rewarded by a sharp glare from Saya, and immediately closed her mouth with an impish grin.

Saya sniffed again, choosing to ignore that particular comment. "I think it's kind of creepy how you think other girls can be cute, Nori," she said instead.

Noriko laughed again goodnaturedly. "You think?" She paused for a moment. "Well, I guess it makes sense for them to have so many fans; even though I don't really get tennis, the team's supposed to be really good, right?"

Just then, Noriko managed to get a clear glimpse at the athletes in the courts, and craned her head to get a better view- Noriko's arm, which had previously swung her bag in rhythm with her walk, came to a complete stop, and her eyes had already widened to the size of platters, mimicking her mouth – which had fallen open in a giant 'O.'

The players she assumed to be the regulars (given their eerily pretty faces and odd hair colors and all) were playing against one another, arms moving fluidly through the air, rackets connecting effortlessly with the fuzzy green ball. They moved with a sort of practiced ease and a strange grace, because tennis wasn't meant to be a graceful sport, now was it? That, and Noriko didn't know much about tennis, but she was rather sure that tennis balls usually didn't move quite so fast – nor, she thought as she watched a particular red-headed boy with bubblegum in his mouth – did the ball roll daintily _across the net._

As if that wasn't enough, she caught a sight of Yukimura Seiichi, playing against _three players._

…And he was _winning._

Noriko blinked once, twice, wondering if perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her – but when she opened her eyes again, the vision hadn't changed: Yukimura persisted in playing (rather, defeating) three players at once. Noriko's eyes widened even more, something that she'd thought impossible.

_Thwack-_

Noriko stumbled, hand flying up to the back of her head, where something had just hit. "Ow," she protested. When she turned around, Saya stood there, holding out her own yellow and black duffel, which she'd used to hit Noriko's head with.

Noriko gave her a half-whiny, half-affronted look.

Saya only sighed. She placed her hands on her hips. "Geez, Noriko – get a grip, will you? We're going to be late to practice; we have to go greet the newbies, remember? And not to mention, you totally _killed_ at tryouts today, y'know? And not in a good way."

Noriko grimaced at the memory.

_Noriko breathed deeply through her mouth, trying out that new breathing exercise Saya had taught her; she was bent on one knee to tighten the strings on her cleats, eyes narrowed and trained on the black and white ball that lay harmlessly in the center of the grass field. With her eyes still trained on the ball, she raised her hands to pull her hair into a ponytail, before shaking her head from side to side in a small loosen-up motion._

_Okay. She was in the _zone_ – she was ready. She could do this-_

"_Noriko! Get your ass out here on the field! Everyone's waiting for you, again! Aren't you ashamed as vice captain?" Saya's screeches cut into her head, and Noriko grimaced._

_Noriko gave a sheepish grin to Saya, jogging over. "Ah, right, right…!"_

_Noriko's eyes narrowed in distraction when screams flitted through the air. Geez, what was going on today? _

_Noriko momentarily let her eyes lose sight of the ball in favor of glancing over at the tennis courts – which, as luck would have it, were right beside the soccer fields. The soccer fields were slightly below-level compared to the rest of the campus, and there were a small flight of stairs to be descended before reaching the grass. The tennis courts stood next to the flight of stairs._

_Once her eyes landed on the tennis courts, they bugged out of their sockets: were those _animals_ trying to climb over the tennis court fences-?_

_Upon closer inspection, Noriko blanched. They were _girls_, clambering over one another to catch a glimpse of the tennis courts. Noriko scrunched up her nose in half-distaste, half-confusion. What the hell were those girls doing?_

_And right then, Shiori Noriko blacked out._

_Saya stood a few feet away, horrified._

_Several newcomers, who had been trying out for the team, gaped in surprise – and worry._

_One lone tryout stood a few feet away from Noriko, terrified. Please, please don't let it be that she just lost all chances of getting on the team by kicking the ball into the vice-captain's head!_

_Saya turned red. "SHIORI NORIKO! I TOLD YOU TO PAY ATTENTION TODAY!"_

Noriko grimaced sheepishly, rubbing the mild bump that had yet to recede on her head. Noriko laughed; "Saya, loosen up – besides, the new ones already know who we are. Aaaand, I'm sure the rest of the team will take some time introducing themselves, right?"

Saya paused for a moment, but before she could come up with another excuse, she found herself growing apprehensive of the mischievous grin on Noriko's face. It was blooming and spreading all over that girl's face, and Saya couldn't help but to the suspicious of the glint in Noriko's eyes. She was always coming up with these half-baked ideas and plans that always ended up with her in-

"Saya - let's take a five minute break and go watch the boys' team; they looked pretty cool!"

Noriko ran off before Saya could protest, but not before laughing at her captain's horribly appalled expression.

Saya bristled, face growing red, when Noriko's plan had settled into realization. _Really_, she huffed; Noriko was the vice-captain to Japan's number one seeded soccer team – the girl ought to show some more dignity, some more honor, some more-

…Oh, _god._

No.

No, no, _no_-

"_SHIORI NORIKO!_ GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Saya shrieked. She gave a glance around her, and upon finding no other alternative course, ran towards the courts herself.

Because, dear reader, Noriko now sat perched (quite comfortably, might she add) on top of the some 15-foot tall wire gates that were constructed to surround the tennis courts.

* * *

Noriko only grinned cheekily at Saya's ruffled response.

Alright, so she supposed this might not have been as great as an idea as she'd first anticipated – but it wasn't as if she'd _planned_ for this. She'd made her way over to the courts, only to find that the herd of girls weren't exactly going to part for her to walk through with a smile and a wave. Still, she'd persisted, and attempted to weave her way through the crowd-

-and promptly found her face shoved roughly into the fence, for girls had already begun to press forward.

See, here, on her cheek: large, diamond imprints were still there! And despite the throbbing pain in her cheek, she couldn't help but to be impressed at the sheer amount of fans the team had. She could see why, too, as she peered down at the players – they looked more like _models_ than tennis players.

Were all tennis players supposed to be good looking? She should have gotten into tennis, not soccer.

Not to mention they were National champions.

Sheesh. She'd heard of guys who had everything, but these boys were just ridiculous.

"Noriko! Get down from there! As your captain, I _command_ you!"

Noriko rolled her eyes when Saya's voice grew louder. Climbing gates were even easier than climbing _trees_, no need for Saya to be so ruffled about it. It wasn't that big of a deal-

"NORIKO! Don't expose yourself so! Now come down!"

Noriko groaned. Saya was like a _mom._

And no, she wasn't exposing herself, thank you very much – Saya had_ such_ a way with words, Noriko sighed. She was still in her soccer shorts, even if she was wearing her tailored white uniform shirt. No one could see anything from down there – and the only ones down there were girls, anyways.

And then, she heard a softer, and certainly more amused voice from the other side of the gate.

"Saa… Miss, may I ask why you're disturbing our practice by seating yourself on such…unconventional seating?"

Uh-oh.

Noriko dared to peek a look, and blanched when she saw that yes, indeed, her guess had been right.

It was Yukimura Seiichi, looking up at her with a mixture of amusement, mild surprise, and an underlying current of quiet fury.

Ouch.

* * *

Yukimura Seiichi had been rather pleased that day.

His team had been in top condition the entire week, presumably from his return to the coats – especially Akaya, who had been twisting over backwards to keep up the 'good boy' routine. How _adorable._

He hadn't said a single bad word to anyone throughout the entire day – which was a record. Though, when a new club member had accidentally hit a ball into his head, he'd almost cracked; Akaya had turned around, hissing and eyes blazing and beginning to turn red, but when he'd caught a glance at Yukmiura, he'd immediately silenced himself.

Yukimura smiled serenely. Good boy.

Sanada had done a good job of taking care of them while he was gone – and there he came now, storming over to a group of slacking players, a thousand berating comments on the tip of his tongue.

_All was right in the world._

…Until _someone_ began shrieking so loud that even he heard it over the continual drone of the fangirls, loitered around the gates.

_"Noriko! Get down from there! As your captain, I command you!"_

Get down from where? Who? Noriko?

…He didn't recognize the name, but it sounded familiar-

Curiosity piqued, Yukimura turned around – and when he did, he rather wished he hadn't. Though, nearly three years with dealing with a team full of people labeled as 'demons' and 'tricksters' had taught him well in maintaining his composure; still, his eyes widened slightly in surprise, mouth dropping _just a bit._

After all, it wasn't every day that one found a female girl sitting (as though it were the most normal thing in the world) on top of one's gates.

…Oh dear.

The girl, as Yukimura found her, looked strangely _pleased_ to have managed to find her seating – and rather unafraid of the fact that she was nearly 20 feet off the ground. Her legs, clad in loose, black soccer shorts and yellow knee-high socks (and by dear god, the Rikkai colors really _were_ hideous, Yukimura mused), swung back and forth in a casual manor; her hands gripped loosely at the top of the metal gate.

What in the world was she _doing_?

_"SHIORI NORIKO! GET DOWN FROM THERE!"_

The same voice he'd heard just a moment ago screeched into the air, and Yukimura winced at the sound.

"…Is that-?" Sanada's weary voice asked from beside him, and Yukimura turned to give him a smile.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Really."

"Mm."

"I don't suppose that-?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Ah."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, as each continued to watch the strange, unfamiliar girl sitting on top of their gates.

Then:

"WOAH-IS THAT-?" was accompanied by a faint 'pop!' as bubble gum snapped.

Sanada sighed. "Aa."

The three fell into silence once more.

It was soon broken by a : "…Is that a-"

"Yeah. Cool huh?"

"Marui, a girl sitting so dangerously on top of our gates is not something to be called 'cool,'" Renji sighed.

Silence swept in again.

Then:

"Oh my."

"Shit."

"My dear Yanagi, is that-?"

"Yes it is."

"Oh."

"Shit."

"Niou, language."

Another wave of silence passed, before:

"You guys, I think there's something on top of the gates-"

A round of stares landed on Jackal, and then realization dawned on him.

"…Oh. _Oh."_

That was all anyone said for a while. And then:

"OH MY HOLY FU-"

"Akaya!" Sanada coughed.

Eyes bugged at the figure. "What the hell is she doing up there?"

"Why would I know that?"

"But-"

Yukimura, with a quiet smile, decided that now was the time to take charge of the situation – he, Yukimura Seiichi, captain of the Rikkai Dai boys' team, the Child of God, would get this all under control. Ignoring the frantic protests of his team (along the lines of "She's _crazy_ – she might jump!"), he stepped forward, a serene smile gracing his lips.

Kirihara gulped at the smile.

That was Buchou's _angry_ smile.

"Miss?" Yukimura called faintly. "May I ask why you're disturbing our practice by seating yourself on such, ah_, unconventional seating_?"

Noriko looked down – and found the very boy she'd landed on smiling brightly up at her. And it was only _then_ that she realized exactly what a ruckus she'd been causing; well, alright, so perhaps this hadn't been one of her best ideas to date, but why were people so fascinated with the fact that she was on top of the gates, anyway? It had only been a defense mechanism to get away from the shrieking girls that had pressed her face into the metal.

"I, um- well-""

"Yes?" Yukimura pressed, still smiling.

Sanada sighed; he could feel a migraine coming on. Perhaps he could ask Tezuka where he got all of his pills for headaches – they seemed to work wonders for him when he dealt with that raucous team of his.

"Well…I just, uh…kinda wanted to watch your practice…"

_Great answer_, her mind clucked in sarcasm.

"…And why couldn't you watch it from on the ground, like everyone else?"

Yukimura's smile grew wider, but all Noriko could see was a feral grin.

"Hmm?"

"I, ahm – I couldn't see well?"

Yukimura's answering smile wasn't amused.

Noriko took it as her cue to climb down, legs moving easily one after the other to carry her downwards; it took a minute or two to reach the point where she could safely jump off, and as she did so, landed quietly on the ground. An apologetic expression crossed her features when she turned around to face the boys.

"Sorry, sorry – I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about; I hadn't meant to ruin your practice," Noriko apologized sheepishly, one hand on the back of her head.

Yukimura's brows quirked; the smile never wavered. "I see."

"Ten bucks she's not human," Niou whispered to the rest of the team.

"Ten bucks she's an _alien_!" Marui added, enthusiastically chewing on his gum now; Jackal only winced at his sugar intake.

"Twenty Buchou's gonna fry her alive!" Kirihara cried with far too much glee.

"You guys," Jackal sighed. How childish his teammates could be, he lamented; well, at least himself, Yagyuu and Renji were mature-

"Twenty-five Sanada's going to snap soon," Yagyuu murmured softly, smiling. He held up a few bills, and his expression mirrored devious grin Niou would be proud of.

Jackal blanched; of course. Yagyuu was partners with_ that_ Niou.

Well, he sighed. At least there was still Renji.

"I'm going with a twenty that Yukimura will let his silence scare the girl away," Renji slipped in. "It's a ninety-eight percent chance."

Jackal's lips pressed into a thin line. Renji slipped an arm around him with an amused grin. "Jackal, don't be so surprised. It's all just for fun," he chided.

Jackal sighed.

But before he could reply, _another girl_ burst through the gate's closed entrance, causing a metal clang as she entered. "Shiori Noriko!" she shrieked, and marched over to the other girl and grabbed her arm. "What is wrong with you? I swear, you're always-"

"Kamemiya," Sanada nodded.

At the voice, Saya seemed to stiffen. "Sanada," she ground out, with much difficulty in keeping her _avid hatred _from crawling into her voice.

Of _all the gates_ Noriko could have climbed, it just _had_ to be Sanada. Sanada Genichirou, wonderful, law-abiding student, her mind crowed sarcastically; the model student with a ten foot long _stick_ shoved up his-

Just last year, Saya had succeeded in pestering the council president into completely renewing all the soccer equipment; while, yes, their equipment _had_ been state-of-the-art material (bought just the year before), Saya had wanted a fresh start for when _she_ started her captainship. After all, her and Noriko's reign was to be something like a _golden era._

She wanted the newest, the best, the latest things for her team.

And she'd almost gotten it.

Then Sanada, the _prick_, had heard and voiced his disapproval at such 'blatant bending of the rules,' and the president had readily agreed.

Ass.

Saya found his entire existence wholly irksome – it was fine if he wanted to live his own life as a little goody two shoes, but why, she asked, did he have to go around sticking his nose in matters that weren't his own? Because he was a righteous little _ass_-

"Kamemiya," Sanada repeated, and Saya heard the disapproval in his voice.

She struck him with a level glance of her own.

"Sanada."

And then, she realized that _she_ was the captain with the vice-captain whom had just climbed up his gates, and inwardly cursed. Noriko ought to be careful about just whose gates she went climbing all over the place, damn it. "Er – excuse my player. She's just not…feeling well. Today."

Sanada crossed his arms and an unamused brow lifted towards his hairline. "She managed to climb ten feet into the air, Kamemiya. I think she's feeling pretty good."

Sanada's frown deepened at Kamemiya – the girl was _insane_, in his book. She'd always had some strange, creepy obsession with him for no apparent reason, always asking what test scores he'd received – and when he scored higher, she walked away cursing, and when she scored higher, laughed like a _maniac_ in his face.

She continued to shoot him glares when he gave updates to the class on upcoming events as class rep.

She sniffed in annoyance when he gave presentations for projects.

He doubted that this all stemmed from that stupid, trifling little incident over a year ago – but then again, knowing Kamemiya, it might just be that.

"I meant," Saya hissed, "not feeling well in the _head_. She's just coming back from the nurse's office because one of my other players kicked a ball in her head."

Sanada's brows rose higher.

Saya cursed silently to herself; damn – she'd just made her team look clumsy. _Damn you, _she thought – well played, Sanada. _Well played._

"Saya," Noriko interrupted, then, wrapping an arm around her shorter captain's shoulder. She knew _exactly_ how much her friend seemed to despise the tennis team's vice captain (a bit over the top, if you asked her), and she'd really rather not watch a fight break out just now. "I think it's time we get going and stop disturbing their practice; we still have to greet the newbies, remember?"

She turned to Yukimura with a sheepish smile. "Um – sorry again, for everything. We'll, um, be going now." Sheepish, forced laughter ensued. Yukimura's answering smile remained frigid.

Noriko scuttled out, dragging with her a still glaring Saya.

Yukimura, with a passing glance at their retreating figures, turned around to smile benevolently upon his own team, who blanched at his expression. "Well?" he asked – and that was all they needed before returning to practice at full speed.

_Ah_, Yukimura realized, then – that face had been so oddly familiar. She'd been the girl who fell from the third floor-

My, my, he marveled. School had gotten _quite_ boisterous in his absence.

* * *

_**REVISED 01/06/13**_

**A/N:** As some of you may already be aware, there was an incident addressing a plagiarism issue by another author, kamiyama-kun, in his story 'The Contrast Effect.' He was an author I respected for one of his prior stories, 'Onegai, Tutor!', and when several of my readers PMed me of this, I was devastated. The copies were rather word-for-word in most instances, and I was deeply disappointed that such a thing could have happened.

I would like to thank Tsukuda Sumiko for locating all of the plagiarized content and listing them out for me, and it makes me so happy that my readers were so ready to defend my work.

That aside, Kamiyama-kun has told me that he changed his fic so that it is no longer the same as mine in certain areas, and I'm just happy this is over with.

This incident took place a few months ago, and I realize that I should notify my readers of the final outcome, especially when so many of you took the time to take down what was copied, etc. Thank you!


	3. Shooting Off Soccer Balls

**A/N: **Hello, all! Yes, I have continued this story. No, I am not dead. Sorry for not updating sooner! Plesae read and review! :D

**Disclaimer: **I do not own PoT.

* * *

Yukimura Seiichi found this day to be an unamusing sort of day, to say the last.

He'd lost his homework assignment somewhere – or perhaps he'd left it at home – and had been lined up for some trouble with the teacher. Or, rather, he should have received trouble, but he'd been let off the hook with a smile and a pat on his shoulder, because, oh, it seemed that the teacher was a large fan of the tennis team. In fact, when Yukimura left the classroom, the teacher had still been in awe that he'd seen the 'Child of God' from magazines.

While other students may have been enthralled with this sort of elevation, he, on the other hand, found such a thing _extremely irksome._ He lived a lifetime of being treated differently due to who he was, because of his illness, _looked down upon_ as an athlete because of his condition – and it was _this_ reason that he'd had to play so overwhelmingly to begin with, to rob his opponents of all his senses.

Because _that_ was when people stopped assuming and stopped pitying, and started _fearing_ instead.

Yukimura sighed at the onslaught of thoughts he preferred not to touch upon; instead, he pursed his lips and hurried on the path. He was running a bit late today, held up by avid teachers who insisted he signed their magazines – and he didn't fancy the thought of Akaya running rampant, searching for his captain.

"_Ow!_"

Yukimura paused at the noise. Eyes shifted to the left. Ah, there.

A small boy (a first year, Yukimura thinks) sat huddled on the floor, on all fours, scrambling to pick up his papers. A group of bulky second-years surrounded him in a snickering line – ah, ah, it seems as though the boy had bumped into the older boys and strewn the contents of his bag on the floor.

The upperclassmen were back to teasing freshmen, it seemed. In fact, several small crowds of people had clustered in laughter and giggles at the boy who was scrambling to pick up all of his belongings; he reached for a particular notebook, only to stumble back with a frightened cry when one of the second-years kicked it out of his hand. The laughter heightened in volume. The boy flushed a bright, painful red.

"Oops," the second-year grinned. "Sorry, bro."

The boy drew his lips into a thin line and bit his lip, as if he was trying to hold back his tears.

Some of the people in the watching crowd looked as though they wanted to help – but they soon caught the warning glance of the boys who had pushed him in the first place, and backed off. Yukimura's eyes narrowed slightly, an only indication in his smiling features that he was less than pleased with the outcomes.

How immature were these people going to be?

Silently, he stepped forward to kneel down in front of the boy, and began to pick up the papers with the boy. Yukimura paused only to give a disapproving stare to the spectators, many of whom instantly recognized him, and shuffled away quickly. He fixed a harsher stare on the group of second-year boys and they, too, scuttled away.

Without looking at the boy – who, as Yukimura knew, was currently staring through wide, half-terrified, half-awed eyes – Yukimura picked up the remaining papers and folders and handed them over. He took them with trembling hands. _Yukimura Seiichi_, his wide eyes breathed in their expression – the famous senior, perhaps the most famous student in the entire school, had just helped him _pick up papers_ from the floor-!

The boy stared for a while longer before his jaw dropped open.

Yukimura offered a small smile, and the boy seemed to snap into reality.

"I-" the boy choked up. "_Thank you_. I don't- Just- Thank you," the boy positively _gushed_, and Yukimura struggled to maintain his quiet smile even as the smaller boy sniveled and rubbed his nose against his sleeve. The first-year rushed to return his things into his bag.

"Hurry up and get going; you'll be late to club activities," Yukimura suggested, and the boy went off running with a grateful grin.

Yukimura gave the retreating figure a lingering glance and a slight rueful smile; such a scrawny little boy, he mused – he was probably bullied for a long time, here. Rikkai Dai wasn't exactly kind on the less-than-popular crowd, after all, something he often found regrettable about the school.

"Woahhh…so the infamous tennis captain is a hero, too."

Yukimura turned around at the amused voice. He found himself facing the strange girl (who had fallen on him from the second floor, and climbed up his court gates) fully decked out in her entire soccer uniform this time; she was leaning against the nearby wall in such a casual manner, one duffel bag slung over one shoulder, that Yukimura couldn't help the stab of irritation. She had an easy-going grin plastered on her face, and a hand raised up in a 'hello.'

Yukimura inclined his head in a greeting. "Hello." Pause. "I was only doing what was _right_," he murmured in reply to her earlier statement, and when Noriko caught his gaze, she winced at the obvious implication behind the blue irises.

Noriko shrugged, then, a half-sheepish smile flitting on her lips. She wasn't a stranger to such scenes as a student of Rikkai Dai, though she'd never gotten herself involved; she felt _bad_ for them, sure, but it wasn't as though they actively attempted to stop the bullying, either. That, and most times, she was already running late for soccer practice as it was, and-

-it was a little hard, sometimes, to care as much as she should.

But she figured that Yukimura already knew that, glancing at the pointed gaze he had leveled upon her.

"I don't suppose you'd intended to help him?" Yukimura asked, a light tone to his heavy words, and Noriko blanched at his ability to say such poignant accusations with such a blithe smile. Yukimura, on the other hand, began to find a wary aversion to the girl's nonchalant attitude to what seemed to be _everything._

Noriko shrugged again, this time, a little sheepishly. "Well…not really. It's not really any of my business, is it? And it's not like he was hurt or anything," she stated, just a bit too casually for Yukimura's tastes.

"…I see." And all the devastation and disappointment of the world seemed to shatter to the floor in those two words; Noriko instantly sobered.

She held out her hands in some sort of a peace offering. "Okay, okay, I admit it, alright? It wasn't the nicest thing of me to ignore it, but- it's not like I _know_ him or anything. And besides, you know those boys weren't going to be happy if anyone helped him – and I'm a peace lover, not an aggressor."

Yukimura offered a quaint smile. "I didn't say anything."

Noriko had to fight to keep a flinch off of her expressions. Yukimura didn't _have to_ say anything, because he had a way of expressing magnitudes of emotions and messages with just a pointed look – and Noriko found that one smile of his struck her more than a thousand belligerent words ever could. She didn't quite like it.

Well, whatever, she supposed, and grinned lazily instead. "By the way, I think you're kind of late, _Captain_," she sang, stretching her arms over her head. Of course, she was late too, but that was a daily occurrence; Saya didn't even bother giving her punishment laps anymore.

Yukimura's smile widened, though Noriko sensed that perhaps her words had brought with it an unbidden realization, for he walked quickly past her with a nod of his head. Sanada, after all, he thought, would be worried if he was too late.

Noriko laughed.

Why so serious? Rikkai Dai athletes, she sighed.

* * *

Noriko drew a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, then released it slowly. While her eyes remained focused on the grassy field in front of her, her hands rose to tie up her hair in a ponytail, expression solemn and concentrated. She could do this, she insisted in her head – it was just another game, anyway.

These practice matches were held at least once a week to gauge performance levels; nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. So why, she asked herself, was she so out of focus? Noriko was the type of player whom erased everything from her mind the moment she stepped out onto the field – in fact, she'd once carried on a perfect game after watching a kitten get run over by a blazing car on the streets. Albeit, the moment the game ended and she'd stepped off the field, reality had rushed to greet her, and she'd been bending over Saya's shoes retching out the contents of her stomach.

Something continued to tug at the corner of her mind – was it, Noriko wondered in bewilderment, a _guilty conscience_? Something about the way Yukimura had silently conveyed his disappointment in her-

She'd wanted to help the kid, really. But she'd been in a hurry, and she didn't even know him, Noriko shrugged. Ah, but – perhaps that's exactly what Yukimura had been feeling, too. It was rather easy to make excuses out of helping people when it wasn't convenient, wasn't it?

"Hey! Noriko! Snap out of it; this is the exhibition match for the newcomers. I need my vice-captain on the ball," Saya balked, tapping Noriko's forehead with her knuckle.

Noriko blinked, then nodded. "Right. Sorry 'bout that," she brushed of her conscience. She'd return to it another time.

She didn't need things like conscience when she played, Noriko reminded herself, and stepped on the field. After all, something like a shred of guilt wouldn't help when she was on the grass, facing down multiple opponents with the ball at her feet.

The moment her cleats touched the green grass, all thoughts of anything but strategies and plays flew out her mind.

* * *

Yukimura took a quick glance past the fence, and at the soccer fields beyond the courts. His jacket billowed lightly in the wind from its position resting lightly upon his shoulders; he stood with his arms crossed softly, eyes filled with curiosity and intrigue – they were focused in on a particular player on the field.

Noriko was on the field and in control of the ball. She moved it with a fluid sort of grace, out of the reaches of her opponents, only to pause for a heartbeat – then slammed her foot into the ball; it sailed cleanly into the net and past the goalie's hands.

Not bad.

Sanada walked up then, and put his hand on Yukimura's shoulder. "Yukimura."

The captain 'hmm'ed in response and tore his gaze from the soccer fields to face Sanada instead. "Yes?"

"Are you alright? You seemed a little distracted."

"Of course," Yukimura replied smoothly, with a gentle smile. "It's just been a while since I've had an actual school schedule."

Sanada accepted the answer with a sniff nod, and resumed supervising practice, leaving Yukimura back to his own devices. He sighed and followed after Sanada – after all, he, too, had a team to lead; though he resumed club activities only after one last glance at Noriko.

She simply puzzled him, was all – Yukimura had always been exceptionally quick to figure out people's personalities. He'd thought Shiori, with her penchant for getting herself into messes and all, would have been the type who couldn't overlook others' problems. But she'd easily ignored the child, something Yukimura couldn't understand in _people_, but not in _her._

Strange.

* * *

"So?"

Noriko looked up into the expectant, bright eyes of Ai, who was seated across from her with elbows on the table and anticipation dancing across her features. Ai leaned in in a conspiratory fashion and Noriko almost laughed.

"So, what?" Noriko asked, raising a brow.

At that point, Ai threw up her hands in the air with a sense of exasperation, and rolled her eyes. Noriko never cared about _anything_ besides soccer and homework and friends, and- alright, so perhaps she was sufficiently interested in everything _but gossip._ And as a good friend of Noriko's, Ai felt as though that the other girl should take some interest in _her_ ultimate interest: gossip.

"What do you mean, 'what'? I mean, what do think about Yukimura Seiichi?" Ai demanded.

Noriko spared her a glance from her homework, briefly. "Does it really matter? I barely know him."

Ai seemed ready to burst a vessel. "I'm just curious as to what you think of him – isn't this your first time meeting him? He's quite beautiful, isn't he?"

_Yes_, Noriko's mind responds automatically, before she's even had a chance to think about it. Yukimura Seiichi was easily the most beautiful person – perhaps male or female – that she'd ever met before, with his delicate features and overwhelmingly aura that just _impressed_ itself upon all those who had the pleasure of meeting him. And when he smiled, it was something to take a sharp breath at, because-

-because it was just _something._

"Yeah," is all Noriko managed to reply with. She pondered talking more about him, but then- all her encounters with Yukimura had rather ended with her apologizing profusely for all the trouble she'd caused him, so she supposed that not bringing such things up was better, after all.

Noriko cracked a smile. "He's. Um. Nice."

Ai frowned. "'Nice'? That's all you've got? Do you even know what kind of person he is?"

"Uh – no?"

"Well," Ai said in such an imperious tone, that it implied that her words carried some sort of precious, precious secret. "He's a genius, obviously. Rumours have it, he never even had lessons – he'd just picked up a racket and knew how to play!"

"The tennis team is so self-proficient under Yukimura, that they have no coach. And on top of being a tennis prodigy, Yukimura's also really, really smart! He's ranked in the top ten in our grade," Ai said, almost religiously. "And, he's rich, too; his parents are some overseas trade executives. He lives in a mansion and arrives at school in a really expensive car, but other than that, he's really humble about his wealth. How do you think his parents paid for all his operations and stuff? He's just real, real rich!"

Noriko blinked, before giving a low whistle. "Wow."

"Right?"

"Some guys really _do_ have it all."

Ai nodded. "For sure. Yukimura Seiichi is like Rikkai Dai's version of Atobe Keigo!"

Noriko blinked again. "Atobe Keigo? Who's that?"

And then Ai went on again about some princely figure Noriko was sure she'd never even heard of – not to mention, how did Ai know about people who didn't even attend their school?

* * *

Noriko had hardly sat down for lunch the next day, when she received a text message; after a hurried gulp of her strawberry milk, Noriko fished her cell phone out of her blazer pocket. Her eyes scanned over the message. A sigh ensued and she rubbed the back of her head.

"What's wrong?" Ai asked from across the table.

Noriko put on a smile and shook her head. "It's nothing," she assured. "Saya just wants me to deliver some permission slips for soccer to her class right now – she has an appointment with the club adviser soon."

She got up languidly from her chair and stretched slowly – almost as if to prolong her time in the classroom before she had to go off on the errand. Noriko bent down to retrieve the papers from inside her desk, pulling them out with a triumphant "A-ha! There you are."

"Be back soon," she waved to Ai before slipping out of the room.

Ai, however, was preoccupied with checking the "Hyotei Gakuen Atobe-sama Fan Club" blog updates on her phone.

* * *

"Here ya' go, _captain_," Noriko grinned cheekily at Saya, dropping herself onto the chair opposite of her friend at her desk, and placed the papers on top of it with a ceremonious little bow.

Saya looked up at Noriko and rolled her eyes amusedly. She pointed her fork at Noriko and pointed at her with her fork. "Noriko, don't sass me."

Noriko grinned widely. "Sass? I don't know what you're talking about," she sang, before laughing. Suddenly, she sat a little straighter, and scanned the classroom for a particular hat-head. "Hey, you're in the same class as that Sanada you're obsessed with, aren't you-"

Saya coughed, her cheeks glowing a brilliant shade of red. "I'm not obsessed with him, it's called a little _light competition_," she bristled.

Noriko stared at Saya with her brows raised, and Saya blushed a little redder. 'Light competition?' _Right_. And this was coming from the girl who'd made it to school huffing and panting with a severe cold and headache, because she couldn't 'afford to let that damn imbecile beat her on another test.' Noriko had stared at her, bewildered, then, because what kind of crazy-

She caught Saya rolling her eyes at her then, and laughed. Saya took a vicious bite of her lunch. "Oh; that Yukimura guy is the class, too."

Noriko's eyes resumed searching, and she soon found the two boys, engaged in a lighthearted conversation. They seemed to be pretty good friends, Sanada and Yukimura-kun – ah, but perhaps that was to be expected. After all, she and Saya were _best friends_ – co-leading a team sometimes had that effect.

"Anyways," Saya said with another bite, "I think we should change up the lineup a bit for the next match-"

Saya cut herself off mid-sentence when she saw Noriko staring at Yukimura instead of paying attention to her. The girl had a silly grin plastered on her expression, waiting for Yukimura to glance over – and when he did, her arm shot up in a far-too enthusiastic wave.

Saya resumed her meal with renewed vicious gusto with another roll of her eyes.

Yukimura, on the other hand, was torn between slight disconcertion and amusement when he saw Shiori waving as though they were the bestest of friends, but who cared, really? He gave a small smile and a half-wave in return, anyway. She seemed happy enough with the greeting, and returned to her prior conversation with Kamemiya wholeheartedly; friendly girl, he mused.

Saya jabbed her fork towards Noriko's face, munching with an irritated air and eyes narrowed. "Noriko," she mouthed through her bite of salad, "Focus. C'mon."

Noriko made a face at Saya's eating, before laughing and nodding. "I know, I know, quarterfinals are coming up and stuff," Noriko shrugged casually.

Saya choked on her food suddenly, and Noriko hurriedly handed her a water bottle. Saya downed the bottle's contents before bursting out with a: "'Stuff'? Are you insane? It's not just stuff, Noriko, it's our club's entire future-" Saya went on raving.

And Noriko tuned her out, an amused grin on her face.

* * *

"Noriko-senpai, could you come over here and help me with this?"

Noriko yawned and stretched, an expansive arms-over-head movement that revealed her slim stomach as her shirt rode up. She brought her arms crashing down and turned around, a questioning smile on her face; she scanned the players, and finally found a girl staring right at her.

She looked like a second-year, and she was tinkering with one of the ball machines: a ball launcher, one of the twenty expensive ones Saya had managed to wheedle out of the school's headmaster. It was amazing, really, what Saya could convince the administration to buy for the team.

The girl seemed to be having some problems operating it; in fact, no one in the club really knew how to use them, but Saya insisted that they needed the top of the line equipment. Saya was probably the only one who knew how to perfectly operate the thing, and Noriko wasn't entirely sure how to even turn it on! Then again, they _had_ bought the things from America, and Noriko's English had never quite been at the level it should have been on after nearly a decade of education.

Ah, well, who needed school, anyway?

Noriko walked over tentatively – she could try, she supposed. When she reached the contraption, she let both her hands rest lightly on the object, searching around for a set of buttons-

Aha. There.

Eurgh – all in English, Noriko noticed, and winced. 'On'…'Off'…'Launch'…

"Uhh…what is it that you want to do again?" Noriko asked, scratching her head.

"Kamemiya-buchou said to turn this one off and put it in the club storage room."

Noriko nodded (far more confidently than a girl who had no idea how to work the thing), and turned to stare at the buttons. Noriko licked her lips. "Eenie, Meenie, Miny, Mo!" Noriko finally said at last, an impish grin on her lips, and jabbed a finger into the last button she'd landed on.

The machine roared to life, much to the horror of the second-year – and before either could know what was going on, a soccer ball suddenly shot out of the device at an unbelievable speed, hurtling straight towards the-

-tennis courts.

Noriko laughed good-naturedly, rubbing the back of her head. "Well, guess that's not it; next button-"

_"NORIKO!"_

Noriko winced when she heard Saya's voice shriek over the bustle of the club members; it was such a common thing to be heard throughout practice, really, that by then the older members knew better than to check out what the commotion was. Kamemiya-buchou was, after all, almost always scolding Shiori-fukubuchou.

Noriko tried to slink away but was frozen by a cold hand gripping down on her shoulder.

Noriko grimaced and cranked her head around.

"…Hey, Saya, I was just looking for you-"

"Noriko – are you _insane_? The launch power is set to 200 mph; that could _kill _someone!"

Noriko gave a small giggle, shrugging. "Well it didn't, so-"

The second-year timidly raised her hand. "Ac-Actually, it went towards the tennis courts…and I think I saw it hit someone in the head when it came down," she managed to get out.

Saya trembled. Noriko observed with a bit of fascination as her features changed from white, to red, to blue, to green and then to purple- only, she grimaced when Saya turned her angry glare upon Noriko. "Shiori Noriko – you _damn brat_!"

Noriko bit her lip. "Uhm…oops…?" Noriko giggled again, but was cut off when Saya jabbed a finger towards the courts.

"Go. Go retrieve our ball, and take care of the matter."

"Take care?" Noriko asked, bewildered.

Saya narrowed her eyes with a growl. "Make sure whichever kid got hurt doesn't go to the teacher about this; or at least trace the blame back to the soccer club!" Saya hissed.

Noriko swallowed thickly. "But-"

"GO!"

Noriko groaned.

* * *

Noriko took a deep breath, fanning her bangs and looking at the massive crowd of girls pressed up against the gates with a feeling of dread. One girl lost the fight to get to the front lines and fell with a shriek – Noriko watched with a mixture between horror and fascination as she was _trampled upon_ by the remaining girls.

There was no way in hell she'd be able to do this, she realized, not without mortification. Noriko turned right back around with the intent of returning to the safety of her fields, but saw Saya standing in front of the fields as though she were some sort of _guard dog_, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Saya narrowed her eyes. The message was clear.

If Noriko didn't handle the matter as Saya had instructed her, she wouldn't be allowed to come back.

Noriko bit down a groan.

She turned around and stepped forward, before turning around one more time. Saya's glare, fiercer this time, met her head on again. Noriko sighed and turned back around.

She inched towards the crowd bit by bit, grimacing every few steps and ducking out of the way of flailing limbs as she approached the mass – this was _ridiculous_; weren't there some safety violations here, or something? The girls were scrambling and clambering over one another to get a good glimpse at the tennis players, shrieking and screaming all the while, and Noriko found herself thinking that even _raves_ and _mobs_ would be safer than this.

Noriko ducked, narrowly missing being hit by a stray shoe. The black heel clattered onto the floor, rolling a few feet before coming to a stop, gleaming in the sun.

Noriko stared at the shoe with wide eyes and an open mouth, her horror growing.

A _shoe_?

"YUKIMURA-KUUUUUUUN!" a voice screamed from beside her, and Noriko stumbled to the side in surprise, wincing and rubbing her ears.

Oh, goodness-

"Ow!" Noriko yelped, staring at the ground beside her in shock. Another shoe had flown out from somewhere, hitting her soundly on the temple.

Noriko pondered simpering back to the fields, but even from here, she could see Saya's staunch form, arms crossed and legs planted firmly in the ground.

Saya angry was not a good thing.

Saya angry meant laps.

Noriko not retrieving the ball meant an angry Saya.

So now Noriko was left with no choice but to retrieve the ball.

Noriko sighed, rubbing the back of her head. Why was life so _hard?_

But as she finally mustered enough determination to step forward, the metal door was banged open by a flustered looking Kirihara, who was growling and hissing at all the girls to move. Sanada appeared shortly after, looking as though he was desperately trying to stay calm while holding an unconscious figure in his arms.

Noriko blinked in surprise, before trying to catch a glimpse of exactly who it was.

She felt something drop into the pits of her gut when she did.

Oh, _shit._

She'd just knocked the Child of God unconscious.

"…Shit."

* * *

_REVISED, 01/07/12_


	4. Escaping TimeOut Sessions

**A/N: Hii again…teehee. So sorry for the late update, guys, I've been starting school lately, and...yeah. Well, I'll try to update more regularly, and you guys are GREAT! I LOVE YOU GUYS, you are my inspiration, kids! :D  
**

**Disclaimer: I do now own PoT. Pfft.

* * *

**

"SAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" came the shriek, frantic and _scared shitless_. Those were the only words Saya could use to describe the tone in which Noriko had blurted the words when she came bursting into the clubroom, breathless and eyes wide with panic.

Noriko was panting heavily and sweating mildly; Saya raised a brow. How hard had she run? Noriko lingered in the doorway, mouth gaping open and eyes wide in a feverish state of…panic? Horror? Fright? Saya narrowed her eyes; just why was Noriko so-

"I'M SO DEAD!"

-terrified…?

Noriko fell to the floor on her knees then, an agonized expression on her face as she beat the hard floor with her fists. Saya cringed, before gasping. Were those tears falling from her precious player's eyes? Just what was going on?

"Noriko," Saya immediately darted to the distressed girl. "What's wrong? What happened? Tell captain Saya," she soothed, patting Noriko's head.

Noriko dove into Saya's arms, bawling hysterically. "I-I-I killed the Child of God! I MURDERED A GOD! SAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

Saya blinked, eyes wide. Oh, she was so, so confused. Noriko had murdered a god? What? "Noriko, I don't understand-"

Noriko continued to blubber on through her tears and snot, "I shot a ball…and it went 'bang'…and…and his head went bang…then the gates went bang…and then he was unconscious, and-"

"Noriko!" Saya shook the girl's shoulders, frowning. "You're not making any sense-"

Suddenly, Noriko sprang up, gripping Saya's shoulders. Her eyes looked wide and almost rabid as she clung to Saya in terror. "They're going to come for me, Saya!" she shrieked, and Saya couldn't help but wonder if the girl was delirious. "They're going to kill me! I MURDERED THE CHILD OF GOD FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Noriko paused, then: "Ohh, the irony of what I just said!" she cried, before dissolving into wracking tears once more.

Saya groaned. Had Noriko cracked under the pressure?

"Sanada…and that devil, Kirihara…they're all coming for me!" Noriko whimpered, before beginning to tremble.

And then, Saya understood. Well, everything she needed to understand, anyway. That damn vice-captain of the boys' tennis team, Saya cursed. Of course. Noriko had been at the courts just before this.

Of course the dang loser had something to do with this.

Saya stood up, eyes blazing. "C'mon, Noriko. Let's go see Sanada, and I'll straighten him out for you, once and for all," Saya grit her teeth, pulling Noriko up with her.

Noriko shrieked and whipped her head side to side. "What? No! No! Nooo! I can't go there, they'll tear me apart-"

"Come on!" Saya dragged Noriko through the doors, and Noriko grabbed on to the doorway with her fingers. She dug in her fingernails into the wood, clenching with all her might; she couldn't go there, they would murder her!

And then some!

But Saya pealed her off easily and dragged her towards the tennis clubroom, and Noriko sobbed.

On the way, they passed several club members, who sighed and rolled their eyes. Really; with their captain and vice-captain always like this, how could they hope to win Nationals this year?

* * *

"BUCHOUUUU!" Kirihara's wail rang throughout the entire hall, full of anguish and fury and worry.

Inside the nurse's room, a group of boys huddled around a bed. On the bed a frail teen lay, unconscious and looking tired and, well…tired. Dark blue locks framed his face in a lovely halo as his face, so pale it seemed to glow, was surrounded by a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were firmly closed and his mouth was slightly parted; his chest rose and lowered slowly with labored breathing.

Kirihara sat at his right, clutching Yukimura's hand hysterically, lip trembling. He turned to Sanada then, eyes bright with tears, and hiccupped. "I-Is buchou okay?"

Sanada turned to look down at the boy and his frown deepened. Just a few days after Yukimura's return, and now this-!

"I…I don't know, the nurse said it was a pretty big impact, and-"

"BUCHOUUU!" Kirihara began to wail again, tightening his hold on Yukimura's hand.

"Who the hell would do this?" Niou hissed.

Yanagi looked up. "Well it's obviously someone from the soccer club; after all, we did find this," and he produced a shiny, plastic soccer ball, held in his outstretched hand.

"Those damn lo-"

"Ohmygod Saya _HE'S DEAD_!" a female shriek cried out, and everyone's heads turned to the door.

The captain of the girls' soccer team, Kamemiya Saya stood in the doorway with her arms crossed and a furious expression on her face. Behind her stood a girl, cowering and trembling and desperately trying to cover herself entirely with the shorter frame of Saya.

The girl behind Saya threw herself forward, latching onto the foot of Yukimura's bed. Her face grew frantic as her eyes widened. "Oh, god, Saya, I've murdered someone!" she cried, flying into hysteria.

"I'll go to jail! Before that, his devil teammates will kill me and rip me to shreds! And I'll never be able to play soccer again! I didn't mean to, I swear, I'm sorry!" Noriko sobbed and grabbed onto Sanada's arm.

Sanada stared down at her, bewildered, and his jaw dropped open slightly in surprise. Had this person snapped? Who the hell-

Oh.

The girl who had nearly murdered Yukimura by landing on him from two floors up.

What-

And then, Noriko reached out towards the soccer ball almost desperately, and hugged it to her chest. Her nervous eyes darted back and forth between Yukimura and the door, and then Sanada knew.

He _knew_.

And he snapped.

"KAMEMIYA!" he roared.

* * *

Noriko sniffled almost pitifully, eliciting a slobbery cry every once in a while, as she sat on her knees with her arms raised over her head in a sort of 'time-out.' She had her eyes, one open, one clenched shut as she peeked at the two figures pacing back and forth in front of her.

Clack, clack, clack, went Saya's soccer cleats.

Boom, boom, boom, went Sanada Genichiroh's tennis shoes.

They both clapped down hard, angrily, on the linoleum floor.

"Raise your arms higher!" Saya barked, pausing in front of Noriko; Noriko could see her shoes.

Wincing, Noriko straightened her arms, which had begun to fall limp and forward in her tiredness. Really; wasn't it enough that they both chewed her out (gee, that Sanada guy was almost as bad as Saya!)? Did she really have to do this, to 'compensate'? Noriko groaned.

"Kamemiya!" Sanada grunted. "This is your fault, too; how could you be so irresponsible as to allow someone like her to handle such a dangerous machine?" Sanada gazed sternly at Saya, who stoped pacing to gape at the boy.

"Excuse me? 'Someone like her'? This is my player you're talking about, Sanada," she hissed indignantly. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, stopping to stand in front of Sanada, her shoulders rigid with irritation.

Sanada stopped pacing at well, and stared right back into the leer that Saya sent. "Yes, someone like her!" Noriko swore she could see the veins popping out of Sanada's forehead. Scary.

"You do understand, that she's a total nutcase!" Sanada gestured at Noriko, eyes widening angrily, and turned to glare at Noriko.

Noriko 'eep'ed and gulped. She looked away, and Sanada turned back to Saya. "She jumped down from the second floor on Yukimura!-"

"Um," Noriko squeaked, and raised her hand, looking very much like a frightened mouse. "I didn't really jump on him, I just, well, he caught me, so technically it's not-"

"You be quiet," Sanada hissed. His eyes flashed demonically, and Noriko shrieked and shrunk back.

"Hey! Don't talk to my player like that!" Saya bristled.

"'Your player' is _insane!_ IN-SANE!" Sanada waved his arms in the air. "Who the hell jumps down from the second story at school? Who climbs a damn fence that _there for a damn reason?_ Who," Sanada roared, veins bulging from his neck, "fires a soccer ball at a frail, important person?"

Saya blinked, and swallowed, before drawing herself to her full height (which was still far from Sanada's size). "Well," she sniffed. "Maybe it's just that weak captain of yours that's too weak! If he's so weak, he can't call himself an athlete!"

Sanada trembled in barely held-back anger. "You have no idea-"

"Well you were out of line-"

"I was out of line? What about you-"

"I was being as courteous as possible-"

"Then I imagine that you being rude must be a nightmare-"

"What's that supposed to mean-"

"It means that you're just as insane as that nutshell-"

"How dare you-"

"How dare _you-_"

And then Noriko snuck out, crawling on her hands and knees, through the door behind the fighting pair. She crept stealthily, hands on the floor and knees sliding carefully along the linoleum floor, and made a mad dash down the hall. She only stopped when she reached the nurse's office again; the door was open a sliver, and a bright yellow light streamed out.

Noriko wrapped her arms around herself and looked downwards, feeling really, really guilty. She barely knew the guy and she'd practically half-killed him! And he just came out of the hospital!

Noriko groaned, throwing her head back. Why was she always causing trouble? With a sigh, she peeked through the crack, and blinked when she realized that the room was empty; his teammates had gone!

Noriko glanced uneasily around the hall once, twice, before darting inside.

Noriko let out a small gasp when she saw him.

His skin was a shade of creamy pale, that almost glowed in the light of the tiny lamp on the bedside, and it contrasted sharply against his hair. He had midnight blue hair that framed his small face, and fell in a sort of halo around his head on the pillow. He seemed just so…peaceful lying there.

Like someone who had died.

Noriko, with a sigh, dropped herself down into the chair beside his bed, and leaned her head on her elbow on the table. "Y'know…I didn't mean to do that," she mumbled, mostly to herself; she knew he was unconscious, and didn't expect him to wake up or anything.

"And I'm really, really sorry; I mean, I didn't think that I would actually hit anybody," Noriko whimpered.

Noriko sighed, throwing her head back and letting her arms droop down. "Geez. For a child of a god, you sure are fragile," she mumbled.

"Or maybe you're just strong enough to hurt gods," an amused voice murmured.

Noriko's eyes shot open wide in surprise, and she sprang upwards in her chair, retracting her limbs quickly. Her mouth dropped open slightly when she realized that Yukimura hadn't been asleep; far from it, actually.

He was sitting up in bed now, staring at her, a slight smile on his lips and head tilted to the side. "Hello. So we meet again."

Noriko gulped.

Yukimura's smile turned slightly feral.

"So you're the one who did this to me, hm?"

Noriko opened and closed her mouth, again and again, unable to summon her voice. "I, uh, uhm, well, you know, I just-" Noriko clenched her eyes shut and bowed her head. "I'm just really, really sorry, man, I didn't think-"

But then a string of laughter tinkled out from Yukimura's lips, effectively cutting off her trail of apologies. Blinking and eyes wide, Noriko tentatively raised her head, and gave a hesitant, crooked grin. "Uh…you okay? Oh, man, those soccer balls are pretty hard-"

But Yukimura waved his hand, still laughing; Noriko idly thought that his laugh was actually…really pretty, in the back of her mind, but brushed that thought away quickly. "Uh…" Noriko scratched the back of her head and gave a little frown. "You sure you're okay there?"

"I'm fine," Yukimura chuckled, before breaking out in another peal of fresh laughter. "You're just so childishly frank, I find it amusing."

Noriko smiled, brows raised skeptically. "Uh, right, frank," Noriko forced a laugh, still scratching the back of her head.

Yukimura smiled at her; yes, it was probably strange that he was intrigued by someone who nearly killed him, but then again, he was a naturally strange person. She seemed so genuinely…frightened! And sorry, too, of course, but the main emotion he sensed here was fright! How…amusing.

Did this girl actually believe he was a child of god? Or not literally a child of god, but someone really on the level of claiming to be so?

That nickname was just a title his fans had given him; he wasn't a god or anything, not even close.

"Anyway, if it's Sanada you're scared of, don't worry about it; I'll explain things to him properly," Yukimura spoke softly, and gave her a brilliant smile.

Noriko smiled back. "Really? Uh, thanks, but uh…that's not all I'm really worried about," she bit her lip.

Yukimura raised a brow, before a look of realization crossed his face. "Ohh, Akaya? Don't worry about him, either-"

But Noriko frantically shook her hands, shaking her head side to side. "Oh, no, that freshman? No, it's fine. It's just…well…you're an athlete, right? And you're kinda sick already, aren't you? Did I somehow make it worse?"

Noriko frowned, biting her lip in worry.

Yukimura blinked in surprise. Why, this girl…she was actually, genuinely worried! How surprising, Yukimura smiled. He smiled, before breaking out in laughter. "Do you know why I'm sick, even?"

Noriko nodded. "Oh yeah; people talk about you all the time! You have cancer!"

Yukimura laughed. "And how is a small hit to the head supposed to worsen something like cancer?"

Noriko looked down in embarrassment, cheeks flushing red. "Well, y'know. I dunno. I'm not good with that kind of technical stuff-"

Yukimura laughed even harder, smiling broadly. 'Technical stuff,' she'd called it! Cancer! Technical stuff! Yukimura never thought he'd live to see the day where he actually laughed over his cancer illness, he chuckled.

"What was your name again?" Yukimura met so many people each day, he hardly made an effort to remember all of them anymore; it wasn't being haughty or anything, but it was simply too hard and a waste of effort. He rarely met anyone twice, so it really was useless learning their names.

So he didn't remember hers, but…she was rather interesting.

Noriko grinned. "Shiori Noriko. Vice captain-"

"-of the girls team, yes, I know," Yukimura laughed.

Noriko raised her brows. "Y'know, you laugh an awful lot for a guy who's hurt," Noriko huffed.

Yukimura laughed even harder.

-Two Hours Later-

"I demand retribution!" Sanada thundered.

Saya hissed. "Retribution? What retribution? It's not Noriko's fault at all-"

"Not her fault? _Not her fault? _Are you insane? Are all soccer players insane-"

"I resent that, coming from someone like you-"

"Someone like me? Funny, coming from a completely crazed-"

"What? Crazed? Well you're some obsessive, perfection-fetish freak-"

"Perfection-fetished? What the he-"

* * *

**A/N: Hey again. It's me. Again. yeah...x)**

** So, lately, I've gotten into Roleplaying forums. If any of you know of a good one, recommend me, yeah? I personally like 'Bleach Gotei' RP. :D I'm a member there, so if you join, PM! (I'm 'Misami Ayame' on there). :D**

**Oh. And. Make sure to review, mm'kay! :D**


	5. Coming to Terms

**A/N: Author's note is at the bottom of the page, this time. |D ALSO IMPORTANT: Chapters 1 and 2 have been revamped, so check that out. ALSO, be sure to check the author's note I attached to the end of chapter 2.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own PoT.**

* * *

"Aren't you scared?" she had asked him, once.

Well, more like _demanded, _rather than _asked,_ but one learned to get used to Shiori Noriko's 'bold' ways. Bold being the nice way of terming her up-front brutal nature in which she asked such blunt questions that often people tried to sugarcoat. Noriko knew of no such things, Yukimura found out earlier on; the sly, deceptive technique of masking a true question in other smaller, loaded statements and questions. She wasn't clever enough to disguise her questions, nor was she patient enough to.

"I am," he'd responded to the question with regards to surgery. Surgery, the daily check-ups; having to go to the hospital once a week to make sure that the disease wasn't returning, to make sure that the recovery process was going well.

Noriko had leaned back against the wall, eyes upturned to the ceiling. "But you go in there knowing that the next time you come out, they might have told you that your sickness is _back._"

Yukimura had taken to staying in the library during break times, simply because it was nicely air-conditioned and the wide windows gave him interesting views of the campus. Noriko had found him there, once, and since then had never failed to pop up.

Yukimura had been taken aback at the simple, almost naïve phrasing of the question. She had been the first; the first to so bluntly phrase the fears that he'd had for ages, that so openly barreled the topic many took hours to get around to whilst beating around the bush.

He'd laughed. "I do."

Noriko had turned to stare at him. "You're brave, you know?"

Yukimura had only laughed some more. "I don't think so."

Because he was _terrified._ Still, Yukimura thought. The way Noriko said it made it seem a little less daunting.

LINE BREAK

"Hey, Yukimura," Noriko waved a friendly hello, dropping both herself and the duffel bag onto the comfortable couch.

Yukimura himself looked up from the book he'd been reading, nestled away in the quiet back corner of the library. He half-smiled back, eyes glancing at the duffel she'd just dropped. "Finished practice?"

Noriko nodded. "Yep."

The girls' soccer team had practice every day, without fail, for two hours after school. The boys' tennis team usually did too, but today had been an exception; the courts had been closed for re-painting in the lines. Yukimura had only been intending on staying for an hour or so, but he'd gotten lost in the book he was reading, it seemed.

'Shiori Noriko; Vice-Captain' was printed in blocked, white letters on the black and yellow bag, and Yukimura closed his book, eyes never straying from the object. "Are you any good?" he finally asked, a smile playing on his lips.

Noriko, legs in a criss-cross as she faced Yukimura from the other end of the couch, let out an incredulous snort. Suddenly, she was grinning and making a victory sign with one hand. "Of course I am, silly; I'm the _vice-captain._"

Yukimura tilted his head. "Aren't you scared?" he asked. His eyes stared directly into hers, just as hers had when she'd asked him the same question days ago.

Noriko's expression remain unfazed. "Of what?"

"Losing."

It took Noriko a while to answer. Her face remained smoothly blank, until, finally: "No," her tone was casual, blasé.

Yukimura raised an amused brow. "Oh?"

This time, Noriko looked back at Yukimura, expression so _utterly_ frank. "Because I'm not going to lose."

Noriko, Yukimura learned, could be quite the two-dimensional person, whilst at the same time, being a multitude of dimensions - like a kaleidoscope. The lens _looked _simple enough, but as soon as one glimpsed through the glass, a world of strange fractures lay before him.

Strange girl.

* * *

"You know, when you said you weren't going to lose?"

Noriko looked up, brow arched and that silly naïve expression painted across her features. Yukimura couldn't understand her; was she really such a simpleton, or did she act the way she did? He'd thought a lot, about what she'd said. About how she wouldn't lose. In fact, he probably pored over that statement more than was intended.

"What if you do?"

Noriko laughed - it wasn't an arrogant one, no, rather, empty of malicious or impure intents. Actually, it was _very_ pure; childish, unadulterated amusement drifted from her lips in peals of laughter. As if she hadn't even considered losing an option.

"For someone so good at a sport, I think you're rather naïve," Noriko murmured.

Yukimura's eyes widened. He? Naïve?

Coming from the lips of perhaps he most naïve girl he'd ever known?

"…Excuse me?"

Noriko's smile remained, eyes twinkling with mirth. "You don't understand - losing simply isn't an option. Why even consider it?"

Yukimura wasn't a sadistic person, not like that Seishun Gakuen's Fuji Shusuke. He was rather nice, actually, and patient, and understanding. But the thing he couldn't understand was the girl in front of him, acting as though winning were as easy as wanting to win. It…irritated him, he realized, eyes widening in the slightest.

He, the _Child of God_, had reigned atop the tennis circuits with his team of equally skilled _demons_, they were called. They were supposed to have been _untouchable_, by neither the Emperor of Hyotei nor the great Captain of Seigaku. He had thought that his team was safe, in the hands of Sanada, and had left for recuperation.

And in that short time, his kingdom had crumbled to pieces upon the shambles of losses.

It took ages to climb to the top, but a single gust had blown them straight down to the bottom.

Did Noriko not realize this?

There weren't many things that irritated Yukimura, not now. Perhaps before, when his illness hadn't been quite so bad. But after realizing that death was not such an impossible thing, it was hard to find small things of concern when bigger things were at stake, when one had to get the larger picture finished. It was hard to concern oneself with such things as _feelings_ when life was slipping through one's fingers.

Many saw Yukimura as a wonderfully kind, sensitive person, but those were just the idiots who regarded him as an idol. Yukimura was far from such a thing, he knew - he was cold, he was harsh, and he didn't really give a damn. He understood others' pains, and perhaps that was why everyone thought him so sensitive, but Yukimura didn't really find himself _feeling_ sympathy.

Yukimura surprised himself at this itchy, nagging feeling that spread in his chest at Noriko's naivete, and parted his lips for a quiet chuckle.

Ironic, that his first emotion in a while should be irritation, of all things, directed at a blithe girl.

"I see," was all he said though, a small shrug of his shoulders gracing his words.

Because though he was irritated, Yukimura found himself rather uncaring.

* * *

The next time Yukimura saw Noriko was after school on a Saturday, three hours after the last club activities had ceased. He'd come back after realizing he'd forgotten his book in his locker, only to find that there was a student on the grounds : a familiar long, brown-haired girl, still donned in her soccer uniform.

With mild surprise he watched her for a few moments, standing quietly at the metal gates. Noriko stood in the center of the grass field with a myriad of black-and-white soccer balls surrounding the area, mud on her knee-high socks and lean limbs, a smudge on the side of her cheek. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail, sweat dripping down her neck and onto her thin jersey shirt. Her hazel eyes seemed to narrow in on the ball several feet before her-

And before Yukimura had a chance to blink, Noriko sprang forward and slammed her foot into the ball; the black-and-white object sailed beautifully for quite a distance, landing near the goal.

Noriko panted, hands braced on her knees, hair disheveled and falling over her features.

Yukimura tilted his head to the side and paused.

Perhaps she wasn't as childishly naïve as he'd thought.

Noriko, yet to notice his presence, went after another ball. This time, though, perhaps in her lack of concentration, the ball went astray. Yukimura watched as it rolled near his feet, and when it stopped just before him, he picked it up with a small, amused smile. He tossed it once, twice, lightly in the air.

And then-

"…Yukimura?"

Yukimura smiled in turn, a slight nod on his head.

Immediately, Noriko's lips spread into a wide, friendly smile, and she bounded over quickly, ponytail swishing behind her. _Cute_, Yukimura found himself thinking. His eyes widened slightly, then, surprised at the recognition of what he'd just thought.

"Hey! Why are you still at school?"

Yukimura smiled. "I was just taking care of a few things. I could ask the same of you, though."

Noriko laughed cheerily. "I was just getting some extra practice in."

Yukimura hummed. Then : "I'll walk you home."

Noriko paused, eyes widened and lips parting slightly in surprise. She'd never really been…_walked home_, before. She liked the sentiment of that - such a gentleman Yukimura was, she mused with a smile. Noriko nodded, beaming, and ran off to get changed.

Yukimura laughed.

The more Yukimura thought about it, the more amusement he got - the girl known as Shiori Noriko. She wasn't anything special, not really. She had a talent for soccer, yes, and she was pretty; then again, so were half the other girls at school. He didn't know what it was about her that made it alright for him to spend his lunchtimes with the girl.

Yukimura was a friendly person, but he didn't befriend others easily. He'd smile easily enough and laugh at their jokes, but that didn't mean they were friends-as in, he would go seek their company on his own. No, people merely flocked to Yukimura, and he simply didn't push them away. Did that mean he thought of them all as friends? Certainly not.

Noriko, though…

Perhaps it was because she made him think. Which was funny, considering the lack of thinking she seemed to do. She seemed to be a 'actions-speak-louder-than-words' type of person. The type of girl who acted before thinking things through, who simply waltzed through life based on her momentary whims. The exact opposite of who he was.

Was that why he found her so amusing, Yukimura wondered. After all, they do say opposites attract; not that he was _attracted, _not in that way.

Still.

Simple, off-hand remarks Noriko made sounded profoundly wise to Yukimura. They were the words of someone who didn't have room for doubt in her mind - someone who was infinitely sure of her actions. The words of someone who didn't have to think twice before doing anything.

And that, Yukimura finally came to a conclusion, was probably why he found her so fascinating.

Fascinating enough, in fact, that he'd come to the library every day without fail, because it meant he'd see Noriko there. Sanada was just about a breath away from convulsing with a seizure, sure, because he couldn't find Yukimura at lunch. Not only did Yukimura find that amusing, but he found himself avoiding telling others where he was at lunch.

Maybe it was because it meant others would join Noriko and himself.

"Hey, hey- stop picking out all your carrots! You gotta eat to be healthy, y'know? Besides, carrots improve your hearing, I heard. So I eat them a lot." Noriko waved her chopsticks at Yukimura, cheeks puffed in disapproval.

Yukimura paused, before bursting into laughter.

"What!" she demanded.

"Nothing," he chuckled. "But carrots improve your sight, not your hearing."

Noriko's eyes went wide. "…Oh, really? Dang-"

The rest of her words were drowned out by Yukimura's laughter.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, kind of an uneventful, plotless chapter. I don't know I just felt like it was overwhelming with a myriad of things happening every chapter? |D SO YEAH. Enjoy.**

**Review plx? |D Reviews mean love. Love means faster updates. HURR. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**_** IMPORTANT:**_** Be sure to check out the note at the bottom of the page, there's something SORT OF like a contest. Not really. BUT A GOODIE. C: And if you haven't already, check out the A/N posted at the bottom of Chapter 2.**

**Moving on: Yeah, I updated pretty fast this time. I'll be focusing a lot on this story now, so give me constant feedback, what you think, what you guys really really want to see if anything (I'll take those into consideration), if you think my characterizations of either Noriko or Yukimura are bad/wrong, etc. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

* * *

When Noriko thought of Yukimura, many things came to mind. Strong, skilled, _godly_ - but rather than that, what she thought of more than anything was, well, _blankness._ As if he didn't really _feel_ for anything any longer.

The only time she ever saw him really happy was that one time, when he was playing tennis. That time, he'd looked so, brilliantly, feverishly happy that Noriko had had to blink because he didn't even look himself anymore. Noriko loved soccer, but even she had never achieved such a _blissful_ feeling as she was sure Yukimura had.

She wondered how a person who seemed like he didn't care at all about most things could possibly look so happy at anything.

Noriko had never been the 'passionate' person in her lifetime. Sure, she liked things, she found certain activities fun and 'cool,' and there were things she disliked. But really - when she thought of the things Yukimura had gone through, she doubted she could have such a vivacity for life. In fact, Noriko was such a laid-back persona that many called her the _sleeping tiger_ : a fact Saya was infinitely pleased with.

It was easy for people to underestimate Noriko, when all she really did was fool around and munch on snacks and laugh at television programs. And Noriko was rather sure she'd never seen Saya more happy when she saw the surprised expressions on their opponents' features when Noriko entered the playing field. In a metaphorical sense, she supposed it could be said that the scent of grass and the feel of mud on her shoes was like a _drug_ to Noriko; it got her adrenaline rushing through her veins and brought a sparkle of _life_ into her eyes.

Noriko didn't like to take things seriously - no one got out of life alive, so what was the point in being serious about it? She'd work hard and play hard, but if things didn't go her way, there was no use getting too disappointed about it.

So perhaps this was why she found Yukimura to be such an otherworldly person. Because Yukimura seemed to find tennis the only thing he really cared about, to a point where it felt as though he were detached from the rest of the world. It was a kind of passion Noriko had never experienced, and she found herself wondering what that would feel like.

* * *

What Yukimura didn't understand about Noriko was her sheer _confidence_ in everything. Noriko seemed so infinitely sure of herself, as if she were strictly in-control of everything in her life, that there were no questions floating around in her mind. She didn't have doubts about winning, nor questions about what things were more important; it was as if life was already all figured out to her.

At least, with the assurance behind her words, it certainly seemed like it.

And just when Yukimura had begun to think he'd gotten Noriko figured out, she came along with the strangest set of questions he'd ever been asked.

"What do you think about when you play tennis?"

Yukimura paused and looked up from the book he'd been reading, a pleasant smile on his features, accompanied by a raise of his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

"I just thought…the only time you ever looked like you really _cared_ was when you were playing tennis, you know?"

Yukimura's smile faltered, then, in surprise.

At that point, he couldn't really tell if Noriko was infinitely deep or a simpleton who came up with the most profound insights.

Noriko seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Yukimura smiled again and closed his book. "What do you think of when you play soccer?"

Noriko blinked. "I…don't know. Getting the ball in the goal, I suppose?"

Yukimura's smile grew distant - as if her no longer with _her_ in the library, but somewhere else. As though his body was here but his mind…was elsewhere.

"See, that's it. I don't."

"…What?"

"I don't think when I play."

* * *

Yukimura had been reading a book, then, when Noriko had suddenly come up with bewildering questions. After all, with so much time spent in the library, it seemed only prudent to at least read something. He'd picked up a long-forgotten romance novel, it seemed; from the check-out card, it was apparent that it had last been checked out twenty years back.

"_I'm not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?"_ the book's hero proclaimed, and Yukimura found himself feeling…rather the same.

For as long as he could remember, his nights had been spent in white, pristine rooms that could only be described as _sterile._ Needles and shots were gotten used to from a young age, as were tablets and pills and numerous medications that made him want to wretch it all out.

His life had been a complete trial of _survival_ until this very moment, and somewhere in that time, Yukimura had lost a fragment of his humanity - his ability to _feel_ about most things. He found himself growing careless with things; he couldn't bring himself to feel concerned about most things.

"_I don't know how to be close to you. I don't know if I can."_

How long had it been since Yukimura felt more than simple, polite friendship for someone? Sanada? His teammates? His feelings for them were more of something like _family._ Of something just short of obligation, of a responsibility he enjoyed.

"_Isn't it supposed to be like this? The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?"_

And then, Yukimura paused with quiet contemplation.

Had he lost his ability to love, too?

* * *

"Hey, Sanada."

Sanada looked up from his papers, only to find Yukimura with _that_ light in his eyes once more. Ever since he'd started spending time with that crazy Kamemiya's equally crazy vice captain, it seemed as if his captain had begun to ponder deeply about certain things. What those were, Sanada didn't know, and he didn't want to pressure his friend to tell him.

So Sanada remained silent, but he was rather worried still. He grunted in reply to Yukimura's call, and took a sip of his water-

"Have you ever been in love, Sanada?"

_Snap_!

That was the sound of Sanada's fragilely held sanity splitting into two unstable pieces. The water that was meant to go down his throat exited through his lips, spraying over his desk as he choked violently, eyes wide and heart beating rapidly.

Yukimura continued to watch with an almost fascinated smile on his features, a gentle laugh on his lips at Sanada's reaction. Silly Sanada.

Sanada cleared his throat and reached for his water again, to drink down his choking. Just what had gotten into Yukimura these days-

"What about that girl, Kamemiya, did you call her? Have you ever felt anything for her?"

Sanada's body shook with violent ruptures as he coughed again, this time, veins straining against his forehead as a furious red overcame his neck. "_Yukimura!_" he finally coughed out, barely restraining from yelling.

Really!

What kind of person would- With _that_ crazy- Harrumph!

"Wh-What brought this on, Yukimura?" he asked instead, a sigh on his tongue.

Yukimura turned, figure outlined by an illuminating glow as he sat against the windowsill that afternoon. The red glow of the setting sun seemed to cast a brilliant shine upon his figure, and Sanada found himself smiling at the irony - how he really _did_ seem like a 'child of God' at times.

Yukimura's smile remained soft and whimsical. "I wonder what it feels like to love something…?"

Sanada only sighed and shook his head.

* * *

As of late, Noriko found herself growing a bit…unsettled, whenever she spent time with Yukimura. It was as if he'd begun to watch her - no, not watch, but rather, _inspect._ As if he were studying a curious, new specie of life. As if she was something he'd never seen before.

He'd ask her questions, with that experimental tone in his voice, and he often showed her a delighted smile whenever she answered. As if her answers were profoundly interesting to him.

His amusement with her was a bit strange - Noriko had never really thought of herself as such an amusing person, as Yukimura seemed to find. But she humored him anyway, because she liked Yukimura well enough. He had this sort of presence - an aura, to put in a way. It had her admiring his spirit, how he seemed to be so _in control_ of everything in his life.

It was as though he could manipulate his own destiny.

Was this why he was called the child of God?

And then, the day came when Yukimura turned to her with a bright, bright smile, and asked, "Hey, Noriko. Do you like me?"

Noriko blinked for several moments, unsure of exactly what Yukimura was asking her. "…I suppose? I mean. If I didn't, I wouldn't really spend time with you, now would I," she laughed.

"I like you too, Noriko," Yukimura laughed softly in reply.

Well, he didn't _like_ her, but he found her _interesting._ She wasn't like a girl he'd met before - perhaps it was because she wasn't as easy to figure out.

To Yukimura, people were like puzzles. Invest a little time and brain power, and it was easy to see inside their minds.

But Noriko was like a puzzle that kept resetting itself whenever he got near the solution.

Noriko smiled, puzzlement reflected in her eyes.

Yukimura wanted to know the feeling of liking something, or someone. Of what all these romance novels and fairy tales were about. All he'd known to this point were sympathetic smiles of doctors and family and the admiring gazes of his teammates, of the fear reflected in his opponents' eyes. He had friends, of course, but they were all a part of his tennis team - and there, the friendship was masked by a layer of firm respect.

In retrospect, it was probably safe of Yukimura to assume Noriko as his first, well, _real_ friend since he'd come to Rikkai Dai.

And she made such an interesting puzzle.

* * *

Sanada worried about Yukimura often.

Sure, their relationship was more of a Captain and Vice-Captain than that of friends, but that didn't mean they meant any less to one another. Sanada was one of the few who knew much about Yukimura's personality at all, other than the celebrity personality displayed in news articles. And despite Sanada's obvious respect and affection for his friend, he knew that Yukimura wasn't like most others.

Because Yukimura didn't develop relationships, like most.

No, to Yukimura, people were simply puzzles, waiting to be fit into place. He would turn them and press certain buttons until they reacted the way he expected them to - essentially, until he _broke through_ and unwrapped them. And when he did, he would simply place them on his chess board as the pieces they were. Yukimura liked to _play_ with people when he found them interesting.

And apparently, he had found a particularly interesting puzzle as of late.

Yukimura had an almost frighteningly detached sense from most people - he wasn't the type to fall in and out of friendships easily, like the rest of his age group.

No, he was several levels beyond.

And Sanada worried that Yukimura would remain that way forever.

* * *

"Sanada."

Sanada drew backwards slightly, eyes wary as they rose to meet his captain's. As of late, Yukimura had been causing Sanada brain ruptures and seizures, practically, with all the _insane_ things he spouted-! It was scaring him, really, and now whenever he heart Yukimura's quiet voice calling his name, Sanada found himself growing fearful. "Y-Yes?" he answered.

"I'm going to woo a girl," Yukimura declared, a brilliant smile on his features.

Sanada barely managed to choke down a cough. The past few weeks of dealing with outrageous statements helped some here. "…And who is that?"

"Shiori Noriko."

This time, Sanada choked, face turning a tomato red.

* * *

**A/N: SO YEAH. IMPORTANTTT : Can anyone guess the book the quotes came from? The quotes that Yukimura was reading in that book? IF ANYONE CAN GUESS IT, I'll write a scene in here or in one of my other stories that they want to see! ^_^ HINT. It's a pretty modern book - in the past few years.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: FFT. SO. APPARENTLY, the quote I picked was TOO EASY, HUH? I totally thought I picked vague ones, but I guess not. -_- So yeah, it was Twilight. Pffft.**

**THE FOLLOWING WERE ABLE TO GUESS CORRECTLY :**

**Lone Panda**

**Avery Fischer Price**

**Coco96**

**Midnight Hikari**

**Sivynia**

**chillybean**

**chocolvr69**

**KL93**

**So yeah. ALL OF YOU : You can each pick ONE word that represents a theme, an idea, or simply just a word, and I will do my best to incorporate that in the chapters to come. Just state your chosen word in a review, and I'll take it down on a note. 8D**

**Another thing. THERE'S ANOTHER SIMILAR CONTEST, SO CHECK THE A/N AT THE BOTTOM, KAY? And I know I usually respond to all your reviews, but lately I've only had time to write the chapters and upload them. REST ASSURED, I READ ALL THE LOVELY REVIEWS, AND I FALL IN LOVE WITH ALL OF THEM.**

**I just want to thank my beloved readers up to this point. Believe it or not, your reviews are the things that inspire me to write! Thank you so much, and continue to give me feedback, yes? Love you all!**

* * *

_"There comes a time in every life when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your heart."_

Yukimura closed his book, lashes fluttering as he stared at the velvet blue cover – almost as if he were still reading, despite the fact that the text had disappeared. His lips curved into a gentle, whimsical smile; empty, as though he were smiling at something he found _sad_.

The only thing left is one's heart, hmm?

…But what if one didn't possess one?

Yukimura laid a steady, delicate hand over his chest, feeling the rise and droop of his body as he breathed. Ah, he mused, so he _did_ have a heart, if this beating was any indication. But perhaps this book was talking about a 'heart' that went a sense deeper than merely a physical definition – perhaps it was talking about something other than the organ that pumped blood to various arteries and veins.

Perhaps the book had been talking about that famed thing – the 'heart,' the source of all human misery and joy. The source of _love_, of _hate_, of overly passionate feelings that humans loved to drown in.

Did he, Yukimura wondered, have such a heart?

* * *

Noriko, Saya knew, loved to feel, but she didn't really know _how._

She loved life with as much passion as she could, she really did. She was never one to turn down an experience, be it walking through hell or throwing herself off a cliff bungee jumping. She treasured all of life's moments, each precious, precious second – she was one of the few who would have little to regret should they die the next moment.

But Saya knew that it was only because she didn't know anything else.

Noriko's greatest strength lay in her greatest fault; her regret in life was so little simply because she truly believed she had experienced everything there was to experience, when it clearly wasn't so.

Noriko had never _fought_ for anything, to the point where she would have killed to achieve it. Perhaps she had, with soccer. But then, Noriko had had an innate talent to begin with, and soccer had always been more of a 'team sport'; she'd never had to cry tears to gain her position here, at the top. She'd never had to feel desperation in her very blood to gain something.

Be it in relationships or in life, Noriko took the easy way in and out.

She disliked dealing with difficulties more than anything, perhaps because Noriko wasn't the type to pit herself against others, like Saya herself was. Friendly competition was great and all, if Noriko's track record on the field was any indication, but outside the grass, Noriko was the greatest advocate for non-confrontation Saya had ever seen.

Noriko wasn't a pacifist – she just liked keeping things simple.

And simple, Saya often wondered, wasn't the best thing.

Saya had known Noriko since they were children – when they first started playing soccer as children, they'd met at the same club. What began as fierce rivalry had blossomed into a dependant best-friend relationship in the span of three years, and by the time they neared the end of elementary school, they'd promised to take their careers to the top. Together.

And when they showed up at Rikkai Dai, the school with the number one seeded girls' soccer team, it was apparent that their dream was more than a pair of silly girls' fantasies. No, they had the talent, the guts, and the fierce will to _win_ no matter what it took.

Saya called Noriko non-confrontational, sure, but Noriko knew the taste of _victory_ and she knew she liked it. She hadn't gained the reputation of a sleeping tiger for nothing – in the first ranking matches as first-years, she'd overwhelmed both the coach and the then-regulars with her play. Saya had been equally as good, if not slightly better, but they'd expected such from Saya.

Saya held herself with a sort of controlled arrogance that came with a talent such as hers, but Noriko only acted as if she were a talentless _newbie._ So it came as a shocking wake-up call to her opponents when they faced her on the field.

Saya and Noriko made it on to the team upon their first year; in Rikkai Dai, grades weren't a limit as to joining the team – only talent was. They were well on their ways to leadership positions, rumors were, even as second years.

It wasn't only that they have talent (which wasn't that rare of a thing around there), but they had a certain _drive_ about them. As if losing simply _wasn't a viable option._

And when they advanced to second years with brilliant futures ahead, tragedy struck.

Well, at least, it felt like a tragedy, when Noriko moved to a different school because her parents moved towns. Couldn't she stay at her house, Saya had begged, because her parents had even agreed and she and Noriko really had to pay attention in second year in order to succeed in third year and-

But of course, such things were out of the question. What parents in their right mind would leave their young daughter in the care of another family for years, even if they were childhood friends? Noriko was still a growing girl, her parents had said. It simply wasn't _right._

So Saya spent her second year alone, and Noriko didn't play soccer at the other school. Because she played soccer _with Saya._ And Saya, Saya had almost teared at the sentiment.

And with just the right amount of luck, Noriko's parents decided to move back, and Noriko transferred back in.

Saya, Captain then, had attempted to appoint Noriko vice-Captain right away. But in such a team as _Rikkai Dai's_, where the entire team was competent and ready to _win_, such things were unheard of. _Favoritism_, the rumors said, because who could believe _that_ smiling, careless demeanor was fit for a leadership position of _the_ girls' soccer team in the nation?

But Saya knew Noriko practiced more than most of the team members, simply from the sheer fun she had from playing soccer. Saya knew there was no one better to have her back on the field, knew that Noriko's talent was on par, if not higher, than almost the entire team. Saya knew, and when Noriko entered her first regular tryouts, everyone else did too.

And Saya was oh so _ready_ to finally _take Nationals_ that year, with herself as Captain and Noriko by her side – a fitting grand ending to their grand tale.

And in high school, they'd carve an even _grander_ legend, they'd promised.

Saya loved Noriko like a sister, perhaps even more. She loved Noriko as a person, as a friend, as a sister, as a personal sort of 'soul-mate.' So when she began to realize as the years went by, that Noriko lacked a certain _passion_ for things, she began to wish for something that could make Noriko want to _cry_ in frustration, feel tears running down her cheeks in pure happiness.

She wanted Noriko to feel a kind of feeling she'd never had before.

* * *

_"What did it feel like, I wondered, to love someone that much? So much that you couldn't even control yourself when they came close, as if you might just break free of whatever was holding you and throw yourself at them with enough force to easily overwhelm you both."_

Did such emotions even exist, Yukimura marveled, cold sapphire eyes ghosting over the printed words.

"…Yukimura?"

At that moment, Yukimura closed his book with a quiet snap and held it in his hands, and raised his head. A soft smile decorated his features, as usual, to greet the figure at the door.

Noriko stood at the door, hair loose and tumbling over one shoulder in a loose braid. She had her gym bag slung over one shoulder, as usual, and for once Yukimura saw her wearing the proper uniform, albeit with a loose tie and a missing blazer, leaving her with only the white shirt and the beige colored vest and skirt. Most times, he saw her wearing either the skirt with her soccer uniform top, or her button up white shirt with her soccer shorts.

She had to change quickly when there was practice, she explained.

But right now was after school, and surprisingly enough, a day where neither teams had practice.

So Yukimura had asked Noriko out to _tea_ after school that day. Noriko had paused and laughed at the notion of _tea_ all of a sudden, but agreed anyway. After all, she liked Yukimura's presence – it was soothing.

_Game start._

Yukimura waved a friendly hello, inserted his book into his bag and held it behind him over one shoulder, and stood up. "Are you ready?"

Noriko nodded.

Before she could react, Yukimura was by her side and slipping the strap of her gym bag off her shoulder. She blinked, before reacting with a "Geez, it's fine, I can hold my own things-"

But then Yukimura swooped down so that he was at eye-level with her, nose barely an inch away from her own. Noriko blinked rapidly, lips parting in surprise. Yukimura's smile looked even _more_ blinding this close-

"It's not right to make a _lady_ carry heavy things, dear. And call me Seiichi, since I'll be calling _you_ Noriko from now on, hmm?"

And just like that, Yukimura straightened up and walked out the door, leaving behind a rather confused Noriko with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth behind him.

_15-Love._

* * *

"So, uh, Yukimu-"

"_Seiichi_, Noriko. _Seiichi._" Yukimura corrected for the third time that evening, and Noriko coughed her drink back slightly.

With a tenderly concerned expression, Yukimura patted Noriko's back…which was extremely easy to do, considering they were sitting _side by side_, almost attached at the hip. Yukimura, once having finished rubbing Noriko's back, returned leaning his head on his hand on the table and beaming at Noriko.

Noriko almost squirmed. Almost.

"Right. Seiichi. Don't you think this position is kinda…uncomfortable, for talking…?"

Noriko idly wondered if Yukimura was going through _Irritable Male Syndrome_, the female version of PMS that Saya had been telling her about. In the past several weeks, Yukimura had rapidly progressed from _beautiful stranger_ to _the person she knocked out_ to _the person who laughed at her_ to _her conversation buddy_, and now, to the person who seemed to have developed a thing for touchy-feely time.

Seriously, what was going on?

But Noriko chose to brush such things off, and concentrated on finishing off her strawberry parfait.

"Hey, Noriko," Yukimura spoke, and for the first time that evening, Noriko felt as though a _serious_ question – something other than 'my, don't I love the way your hair shines in the café lights, Noriko' – was coming up.

Noriko put her spoon down and turned to face Yukimura, slightly stiffening when she realized just how close they were to one another.

"Have you ever been in love?" Because if you have, I'd ask you how it felt, Yukimura mused.

His brows lifted in surprise when he was met with the clear tinkles of Noriko's laugh.

The teasing words of 'Have you?' died on his lips when Noriko replied with a "If you can tell me what love is, maybe I could tell you if I have."

Yukimura's eyes softened as his lips spread in a wry smile.

Then, he leaned forward, his forehead resting on Noriko's, eyes shining with a mischievous sort of mirth. "Want to find out together?"

He was the child of God. A few pickup lines were a breeze.

Noriko paused again, before bursting out in laughter, breaking away from contact. She continued to laugh for the next few seconds, until Yukimura laughed along.

"Silly Seiichi."

* * *

"So, Captain. I heard you were in the process of wooing a _lady._"

When Yukimura saw Renji sidle up to his side with a crafty grin on his face, an even craftier smile spread on his own expression. "Ah, really? Was I?"

Yukimura spared Sanada a glance, who coughed loudly and resumed slamming the incoming ball with his racket with even greater force than intended. The rookie he'd been playing with shrieked in terror as suddenly the tennis ball went whizzing right by his face, and lodged itself _in the fence._ Damn it, he knew he shouldn't have accepted 'training' from the Emperor of the Three Demons!

At that point, Yagyuu came sauntering up as well, a sly smile on his lips. "Ah, yes, Captain's _wooing a girl,_ hm?" He said it quite loudly, too – on purpose, Yukimura knew. Ah, such little kittens his teammates were, hm?

Niou immediately darted forward, interest gleaming in the trickster's eyes as he slung his arms around Yagyuu's shoulders and leaned on his partner. "Ahhh? _Really?_" He gave a sound whistle, waggling his eyebrows.

Of course, Marui wasn't far behind, bouncing up and down on his feet, gum on his lips, dragging along a reluctant Jackal by the hand. "Buchou's seducing a girlllll," he sang, and Sanada found himself thanking the gods that regulars had their own set of practice courts from the rest of the team.

And then, _Kirihara_ came dashing forward, brows furrowed and lower lip jutting in a pout. "Who is it, Buchou?"

Ah, the youngest child asks the fated question.

Yukimura's smile, Sanada later decides, grows a tad bit _too_ gleeful as he pronounces, "Shiori Noriko."

At first, only Yagyuu and Renji recognize the name – both of whom take sharp intakes of breath. Afterwards, Renji is madly muttering things under his breath as he takes new mental notes, and Yagyuu's infuriating smirk is materializing.

The second pair to recognize the name is Jackal and Niou – the rather sane one and the deviating trickster of the group. And in response, Jackal's partner is notified. And all three make the same choking sound.

Sanada silently nods his head in understanding.

Of course Kirihara is the last to realize it, when the image of the duffel bag slamming his head and the words 'Shiori Noriko' printed across the fabric flashes in his mind. And then, he is seeing red, red, red, steam about to materialize out of his ears from his pure fury. His beloved Captain, aiming for _that_ crazy ball of human flesh flying out of windows?

_Preposterous. Outrageous. Unbelievable. Unacceptable._

Kirihara is about to march out the gates to go _beat_ that girl to a pulp, when the gate doors open and in steps, surprise surprise, the girl of the hour, Noriko herself.

* * *

When Yukimura asked her to show up during club hour that day to tennis practice, she didn't really know what to expect. Especially since the last time she was there, she'd been on top of his fence and he hadn't been very happy. That, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to the prospect of meeting his teammates again, all of whom had glared rather vehemently at her the last time she'd seen them.

But he'd requested it of her so _earnestly_ she couldn't possibly have refused, and here she was.

The moment she entered, though, Noriko had a sinking feeling in her gut that perhaps she shouldn't have come – not when the entire team is gathered about Yukimura, and then facing her with a sort of bewildered curiosity.

Before anyone can react, though, Kirihara has pounced, snarling, "You!" and lunging for Noriko.

And before Sanada can rush over to stop Kirihara, Saya has leapt in after Noriko (of course, if her vice-Captain all of a sudden goes _missing_ during practice, she would follow), and defends Noriko with a shrill cry of "Back off, second year!"

Sanada reaches the trio just in time to grab a firm hold of Kirihara.

Meanwhile, Yukimura watches the entire ordeal with very interested eyes.

"What do you think you're trying to do to my precious star?" Saya demanded at last, glowering at a nearly frantic Kirihara. Kirihara is almost _foaming_ at the mouth, practically, Noriko noticed with a hint of terror, and moved to conceal herself behind Saya.

"Precious star!" Kirihara scoffed. "As if, she's just some soccer junkie. I bet _I_ could whup her ass in soccer!"

Saya bristled, growing a bright red in her cheeks. How could she simply stand by and allow this _fresh tennis jockey_ to mock her darling Noriko?

In the meantime, Noriko snuck off to go see Yukimura, who greeted her with a rather too-friendly hug and the most charming smile he could muster. She laughed a bit hesitantly, rubbing the back of her head. "So uh. What'd you need?"

Yukimura smiled, and gestured towards the remaining regulars that surrounded him. "Why, I just wanted you to meet my friends, of course."

Noriko swallowed. "Uh…I see."

"Well then, this is Niou, and this is Yagyuu, and this is-"

"_Noriko!"_ came the shrill shriek of Saya, and Noriko sighed. What was Saya up to _now_?

"Feh! Girls are still _girls._ I bet I could beat you using _one foot_," Kirihara sneered at Noriko, lips curled into an arrogant smirk.

Ahh, Yukimura mused; how this brought back memories of his second-year, when he first met Kirihara. Such a cute little boy he had been, declaring he'd become 'number one.' "Doesn't this remind you of last year, Sanada?" Yukimura chuckled, and Sanada only readjusted his hat in agreement.

Saya seemed to freeze for a moment, before a smug smile spread slowly over her lips. "Hehhhh I remember now – I've heard of you before!"

Kirihara huffed with pride. "Of course you have, I'm the great-"

"The idiot who got his _ass_ handed to him by Sanada last year, huh?"

Ah, the all-too famous incident of Kirihara's first year – the way he'd leapt up onto the school gates, bellowing out a 'I'll be number one!' He'd gone on to defeat the third-years of the Nationals-winning team, and upon declaring himself the best of the club, had met the _three demons._

Needless to say, Sanada had beaten the poor boy with ease, and here Kirihara was now, a tamed little puppy.

Kirihara jolted back, teeth grit and eyes glowering.

"Do you need this pretty onee-chan to teach you the taste of _defeat_ again?" Saya goaded, grin wide and leering, before-

"You!"

Noriko raised her brows with a sort of resigned laziness, surprise on her features. "Me?"

"I'll beat you in soccer! And then…and then…you can't come near 'Mura-buchou anymore!"

Noriko only blinked before laughing sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head. "Ah, see, that's a little…I'm not even that good, so I-"

But then Saya was right in front of her, teeth bared and eyes wild. Ah, geez, Noriko grimaced; Saya got _rabid_ whenever someone insulted her team members, Noriko swore.

"Noriko. On the field. Now."

Noriko's eyes bugged. "Wha- Wait, really?"

"_Now,_" Saya hissed, and Noriko was jogging towards the empty soccer field with a groan.

Kirihara snorted and he, too, sauntered off towards the field.

Sanada raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose – ah, he marveled. So this really _did_ help with the migraines. Trust Tezuka to come up with such brilliant things.

But really, Akaya and his recklessness…he may be a brilliant tennis player and a well-to-do athlete, and his opponent may be Kamemiya's _crazy_ team member, but still.

They were the nationally ranked soccer team. Surely, they had to have some skill.

And Akaya didn't even play soccer competitively-!

"Yukimura. We have to stop this-"

"Why, Sanada?"

Sanada froze, and raised his brows in disbelief at the boy, who laughed in return. "I think it's going to be fun," Yukimura continued, lips spreading into a grin. "Besides, who knows? What if Akaya wins?"

"If that brat wins against Noriko, I'll _resign as Captain_," Saya murmured, and all of the male regulars turned to stare at Saya in mild surprise. Saya's voice held no traces of over-zeal or being overcome with anger to promote any sort of rash behavior – rather, she sounded _sane_.

"Is it that you underestimate Akaya, or that you have that much confidence in Noriko, Kamemiya-san?"

Saya's lips curled into a proud smile.

"Abso-bloody-lutely the second. One hundred percent."

* * *

Kirihara Akaya, dressed in some borrowed cleats, stood several feet opposite of Noriko, who wore an expression that hinted of her reluctance to such a match. The soccer ball had been placed directly in between them, gleaming with a just-polished tint beneath the afternoon sun, and two goals stood behind each player with an equally brilliant gleam.

The only audience to this match was the male regulars and Saya, whom stood upon the umpire seat with an infinitely relaxed demeanor. Off to the side of the field was a large, electronic clock, used to time the games. "We'll play one half-time period, Kirihara," Saya spoke through her megaphone, voice crackling through the air as it reached all listening ears.

"We're assuming you know what that is, brat."

Kirihara scowled in response. He watched soccer on television, he knew what that meant, damn it. These girls were obviously looking down on him – well, he'd show them just _why_ he was the _devil junior ace_. His aggressive, hurt-the-opponent-first play style didn't apply _just_ to his tennis, and in soccer, it got _worse._

He'd played soccer before – not competitively, really, but for 'fun' with a couple of elementary school friends.

Kirihara focused on de-mobilizing all players on the field before shooting in the goals. After all, if no one else on the field was able to move, then, really, it was a free-for-all goal-shooting session, wasn't it?

He was Kirihara Akaya. There was no way he'd lose to this damn girl, who seemed to be _yawning_ from across the field.

He'd show 'Mura-buchou that there was nothing special with her. Heh!

A large buzz, and Kirihara realized the game had started when he glanced to the side, and the huge clock was beginning to move, digital numbers flashing in red. When he looked across the field, Noriko seemed to be aware of the fact, as her eyes were drifting back and forth between his form and the ball – and yet, she wasn't moving-

Ah, was she _giving_ him the first kick? Che, underestimating him, was she?

Well, then.

Kirihara sprinted forward, and landed a well-aimed kick at the soccer ball, that went barreling forward, low and fast.

His grin widened as he watched it go.

Saya, from her seat, only rolled her eyes – just where was that kid aiming? That was nowhere near enough to get to the goal. However, when she caught sight of the expressions on the watching boys – some grim, some mildly amused, all seeming as though they knew something she didn't – Saya's eyes zoomed back to the ball.

The ball, that wasn't aiming for the goal, but for _Noriko._

Noriko seemed to have realized this just as the ball reached her, and shifted her body out of place in time for the ball to scrape by her arm. With a hiss she slid down slightly, left hand shooting out to grasp her upper right arm-

What the hell was with that kid?

When she removed her hand, she bit her lower lip. Her arm was _bleeding_, and not by a little bit, it seemed.

Saya was already scrambling down from her seat and rushing towards the field when Noriko noticed, and called out with a "Don't you dare come in the field, Saya."

Saya faltered, just as she reached the edges of the grass. Knowing Noriko's personality, the _tiger_ had just cracked open an eye from its slumber, it seemed. And Saya knew well enough not to interfere, not with Noriko's game.

Still, she marched angrily up to the tennis team, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. "What the _hell_ is your brat doing, Sanada?"

Sanada remained expressionless, eyes still on the grass field. "He's playing the way he knows how – to _defeat_ his opponents, Kamemiya. Tell your player to start _playing_." As if taking in a second thought, he added quickly: "But don't worry. We'll reign him in if this goes any farther."

"No. You'd better worry about your _own_ kid, Sanada. We can watch our own backs." Saya responded in an all-too confident voice, and Sanada had to raise his brows in a skeptical response. Just where was all her confidence coming from? Did she not see how her own player's arm had just been scraped by Kirihara's first kick?

But before he could reply, Saya had stomped back to the umpire's seat, and Yukimura beside him was watching the field with fascination, eyes wide.

It was as if he was watching another layer of his puzzle unfold.

"Yukimura, I think we should stop this before Akaya injures-"

"No, Sanada. Watch."

And indeed, as Sanada turned his gaze to the field, he noticed something rather…_different_, about the girl. Now with a temporary gauze-like object wrapped around her arm and her hair tied up, it seemed, she was more…focused? He couldn't put a hand on it, but she certainly was no longer yawning and laid-back as before.

Yukimura had never seen Noriko play – not against an opponent, no. As much as he disliked the look of the injury on her arm, he couldn't help his compelling curiosity of just where all her confidence came from.

He wanted to see what she was capable of.

* * *

"An arm, two legs, a neck, a face – where do you want to bleed next, huh?" Kirihara grinned, eyes beginning to turn the slightest of red. About traumas, he knew well – even the greatest tennis players often crumbled after being hit by his serve _once._ For the remainder of the match, they ran whenever he hit the ball – they ran, _away._

And it would be the same with this girl, he was sure.

But Noriko's lips only curved into the smallest of smiles, and she braced her arms against her knees, and suddenly her eyes were on the _ball_, on nowhere but the black-and-white object. _Face the ball. Don't fear the ball._

Another buzz and the timer started again.

This time, she, too, darted forward as Kirihara did. Kirihara got there first, a wide grin on his face, and his foot began to make contact with the ball-

And that would be the last time he'd touch the ball within the same game.

Because Noriko was suddenly _there_, in front of him, when he could have sworn she was a good three feet away. She was wearing a small grin and her eyes were still not on _him_, but on the ball itself – and before he could kick it away, she'd kicked it with a fluid sort of grace and ease.

Kirihara could only watch, stunned, as Noriko took quick possession of the ball and took it down halfway down the field before he blinked back into action. With a growl, he took a mad dash and reached her, tongue flicked out on the side of his lips. He struck out a leg, with the intention of taking the ball from her-

But Noriko, Saya knew as she watched, didn't like having her ball taken from her. Oh, no.

Noriko easily froze mid-action and in less than a blink of an eye, she'd changed directions, body leaning in certain ways Kirihara wasn't sure humans were supposed to be able to without losing balance. She easily rounded Kirihara's body with the ball, without batting an eye, and continued forward towards the goal.

She slammed her foot into the ball, and it went sailing cleanly into the goal.

Kirihara glowered. So she could play a little. So what? _He'd shatter her._

* * *

"Oh? She's pretty good, isn't she?"

"Well, she _is_ the vice-Captain of the National champions' team."

"Yes, but she's never actually _played_ in the Nationals games."

"Oh, really?"

Yukimura caught bits and pieces of the conversations of his team members, and the smile on his features never wavered. He'd never seen Noriko actually play – and really, it was surprising, her play style. Aggressive, unrelenting, never one to allow her opponent to touch the ball at all at any time during the game. It was a far cry from her personality off the field, and Yukimura found himself liking this puzzle more and more.

He leaned in towards Sanada. "What do you think, Sanada?"

Sanada paused, taking the time to observe Akaya's panting form and Noriko's rather composed one. "I'm surprised, I admit."

"Mm."

"Well, it's quite obvious the outcome of this match. Why don't we just stop Akaya's misery here?"

Yukimura laughed, and with his agreement, Sanada walked off towards the umpire's seat.

Yukimura turned his attention back to the field. Since the game had started – that is, after Noriko's arm had been injured – Akaya hadn't managed to touch the ball with his foot _once._ It was surprising, considering that Akaya was a talented athlete. Sure, his forte was tennis, but he would still probably be able to win against lower-caliber soccer players. Akaya's speed and stamina, not to mention his strength, weren't things to be messed with.

Noriko's skill in soccer exceeded that of his expectations.

Still, Yukimura had to wonder where she got all of her confidence in her lack of losses.

* * *

"Call off your player, Kamemiya. The results of this match are obvious – let's put an end to it now."

Saya had climbed down when she saw Sanada beckon. Now, she only shook her head in refusal.

Sanada sighed, irritation lingering on his expression. "We know it's Akaya's loss, so just stop that stubborn pride of yours and-"

"It's not that," Saya interrupted him, her lips set in a thin line.

"…What?"

"It's not that I won't, but rather, I _can't._"

Sanada's expression of bewilderment amused her more than she cared to say. "What do you mean, you can't."

"That's just it. Once a game has started, she won't stop till it's over and she's won." Saya turned her gaze to Sanada, features devoid of humor. "It's like she can't will her body to stop, or something."

Sanada turned his gaze back to the field, brows furrowed.

* * *

_"You know, when it works, love is pretty amazing. It's not overrated. There's a reason for all those songs."_

"Hey, Seiichiiiii," Noriko's whine pulled Yukimura from his book.

The pair sat in the library once more, an hour after Noriko's match with Kirihara had ended. Her hair was down again, though Saya had put it in a loose braid again, after berating her for looking so messy. She sat opposite of Yukimura on the cushioned windowsill of the library's large window, legs tucked in under her arms.

"What're you always reading these days?"

Yukimura smiled.

"Just some love story."

* * *

**A/N: So yeah. That was an extra-long chapter for all you lovelies.**

**See those quotes in italics throughout the chapter? Try to guess what book it's from. 8) From now on, I'll be using a different book for quotes in each chapter, and from this chapter (Chapter 7) to the end, the person who can guess the most quotes correctly will get an extra-special prize. OKAY? OKAY? GO!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, yeah, kind of a short chapter. I was away on a trip with some of my friends the past few days, so updating came a little later, and...yeah. IMPORTANT : for this chapter, there are exactly TWO quotes, in italics, and with "" around them. They are from two different books - identify the SECOND one, please! :) I'm going to use the first quote's book in a later chapter, I decided, so I stopped using quotes from that book halfway through.**

**These are the words chosen by the winners of the 'Twilight' Identification. As I write, I will place an (x) beside the ones I've managed to use. : **

**KL93 : shaking**

**Coco96 : angst**

**chocolvr96 : alliance**

**chillybean : blush (x)**

**Sivynia : candid**

**LonePanda : jealousy**

**Midnight Hikari : travel**

**These are the people who guessed the last book right; it was _Just Listen_ by Sarah Dessen. 8'D**

**missmori**

**Midnight Hikari**

**.tHr33**

**Sivynia**

**ChocolateFudgeSauce**

**chillybean**

**chocolvr69**

**Coco96**

**KL93**

**REMEMBER : Read and review! Happy reading! I think this is a crucial time to give me feedback if there are things you notice that are wrong, because I'm starting to start the _real_ story here, you know? XD So. Yeah. R&R! (heart)**

* * *

"_But wishes are only granted in fairy tales."_

Now that, Yukimura mused, may be a quote he actually found true. He had never been one to throw a coin into a fountain and hope that his wish came true - because such things were absurd. You couldn't just _wish_ for something and have it granted, not in this world. One had to work hard, one had to cry and scream and work until their muscles bled through to get what they wanted.

That's what he'd done.

Had he been able to simply sit back and mutter a wish under his breath to _live_, by god, how he would have done so. But no, he couldn't just _wish_ for his illness to recede, he had to take blood samples and tests and medication and surgery and days of being fed through a goddamn tube to be able to survive. So whenever he saw people in the hospital praying, it irritated him.

Because those were the idiots who thought simply praying would be able to get them to survive, and such thoughts were stupid.

* * *

"Yukimura, why are you doing this?"

Sapphire eyes, filled with amusement, rose to meet a pair of brown ones.

A shrug.

"It's fun. And it's in the name of wooing, Sanada."

The slight drop of a jaw.

"This is getting out of hand-"

"When was it in my hand, to begin with? Love is not by choice-"

"_This isn't love-_"

"Well, this is some damn good wooing, then."

Sanada continued to watch, flat-eyed, as Yukimura wrestled with a piece of ornate origami paper. The blue-haired boy sat before a large, white table, that was _supposed_ to be the table for the boys' tennis club's conference room. Apparently, it was better suited to be the holder to approximately ninety _paper cranes._ Yukimura had been at it for the past few days, now, continually folding away meticulously small pieces of paper.

And, quite frankly, Sanada felt it was almost like a blow to his _own_ pride, watching his Captain waste his time building paper cranes. Really, what child of god made paper cranes? Paper. Fucking. Cranes.

What was the worst thing, one may ask?

Well, it was the fact that these cranes were for a _girl._

That crazy vice-captain to that crazy Kamemiya.

In a bout of childish irritation, Sanada found the words "100 cranes isn't even the legend, damn it! It's a thousand!" tumbling out of his lips. He coughed loudly and looked away right after, though, as Yukimura raised his brows in amusement at him.

"I know, Sanada. But it's silly - a thousand cranes equals a wish? Wishes don't work. I might as well give her a hundred, as motivation to work towards a goal."

Sanada could only gape, dumbly.

"It's all about wooing the girl, Sanada."

Sanada spluttered.

* * *

A shuffle of paper and a crinkling sound.

Hazel eyes blinked, once, twice, an edge of confusion lingering in the edges. Sapphire eyes beamed back happily.

"So uh…are these for me-?" Noriko finally asked, holding the object out at arm's length. Cranes - made of every color imaginable - hung on an obnoxiously long piece of string, trailing on the floor even as Noriko held it up to her eyes with a pinch of her fingers. She blinked again, once, twice.

Yukimura laughed, the quiet, comforting baritone of his voice washing over her ears in waves. He nodded.

Suddenly, Noriko's lips spread in a silly smile, too, and before long she was laughing. A giggle, a laugh, a choking as she struggled to breathe, hands clenched around her abdomen, though she was careful not to drop the cranes. Yukimura - the child of God - had made her _cranes._ Cranes! Of all things, cranes!

"Wha- Why would you-" she managed, before she burst into another bout of laughter.

Yukimura chuckled, before replying with a "Just because."

Her laughter died down, to be replaced by a pensive expression. She stared quietly at the row of cranes for a few minutes, mouth opening and closing as she pondered over just how she was to say what she meant-

"Ah. Seiichi. Isn't it 1000 cranes to get a wish?"

Yukimura only shrugged, an easy smile on his lips. "Wishes don't come true, Noriko. So this is more like a _motivation_, for you to accomplish a _goal._"

Noriko's smile faded at his words, eyes blinking in surprise, something strange flashing in their depths. Yukimura remained still, sitting in front of her, waiting – waiting for her to say something to break the spell of silence that had fallen.

Noriko's eyes finally rose to rake over Yukimura's form, lashes fluttering as she blinked again and again. Wishes didn't come true- ? Ah, she realized with a light hum, what a typical thing to come from his lips. Yukimura had always been surprisingly cynical at certain things, Noriko had come to realize. It was fine and all, she didn't mind.

But wasn't it so sad that one didn't believe in wishes?

Noriko got up from her seat on the table, carefully laying the string of cranes on the desk. Yukimura only continued to watch, seated sideways on his chair, head leaned on his fist propped on the table. He raised his brows when Noriko walked around to his side, crouching down so that she peered upwards at him, hair falling to touch the floor.

"Close your eyes," Noriko grinned.

Yukimura laughed. "Why?"

Noriko stuck out her tongue. "Because I said so."

"Yes, yes," Yukimura complied.

Noriko paused, slightly in surprise – she hadn't really expected him to do it so easily, she mused, glancing at his closed eyes. Wow, he had long lashes.

"Make a wish."

Yukimura paused, almost opening his eyes in surprise as his lips parted. "…What?"

Noriko huffed. "I said, make a wish."

"…But I don't believe in wishes-" Yukimura winced as he felt a hand slap his forehead.

"Make a wish. I'll make it come true within the year."

Yukimura, then, stilled. What a silly girl, he sighed, half in resignation and half in amusement. What would she do if he wished for something like a flying horse, he wondered. But, he mused, he wouldn't really do that, not when she seemed so_ serious_ about the entire ordeal.

"…I wish that I can be scared."

It was Noriko's turn to be surprised. "…What?"

Yukimura opened his eyes.

Sapphire, gleaming with amusement, bore into bewildered hazel. "I want to be so scared, I feel adrenaline rushing through my veins. So _terrified_ that I'd pray a thousand times over in seconds, so _afraid_ I can barely feel my fingers. So scared, that I go _numb._"

There wasn't much that bothered Yukimura, not when he'd nearly lost his life with a fifty percent chance of survival. As it stood, it had been a long, long time since he'd been scared. He wanted to feel that fear again – a proof he was still _human._ That he was still capable of being afraid.

Noriko's lips widened into a playful smile. "But that's easy."

Yukimura raised his brows. "What?"

"Boo!" And Noriko darted forward, palms splayed out towards Yukimura's face. Yukimura, startled, grasped Noriko's wrists on reflex, eyes widening into a bemused expression on Noriko's features.

The two began to laugh, until the librarian silenced them with a harsh glare.

* * *

"Sanada, we need to talk."

Sanada looked up from his seat on the desk, pen frozen as he paused mid-signature. He completed the name with a hurried flourish, as he realized the ink is blotting through. He sighed, and looked upwards once more, brows raised and eyes widening as he realized who was at the door of the tennis clubroom.

The moment he recognizes the figure, he feels an urge to dive under his desk and _hide._ But he's lost his chance, when Saya stomps her way over, a certain something gleaming in her eyes – he recognizes that glint. Determination.

"Make your captain stop."

Sanada froze. "…Excuse me?"

"Have him stop, whatever he's doing!" Saya finally ground out, teeth clenched and clear _distress_ lingering in her voice to the point where Sanada lays his pen to rest on his desk. And everyone knew : when Sanada put down his pen, he meant business.

"Whatever are you ranting about now, Kamemiya?"

"There are cranes in Noriko's sports locker, you ass!" Saya shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air.

Sanada's stare grew into one of apprehension as he gazed at Saya. Oh, so she really _had_ gone crazy, ranting about _cranes_ of all things-

"I mean. Noriko's sports locker is something like a _holy land._"

Sanada's hand inched towards his cell phone. He had to call someone to get this crazy girl out of his office-

"She never has her personal belongings in it – nothing, but her soccer uniform and cleats. And suddenly, there's a string of _fucking paper cranes_ that dangle out of it whenever she opens the thing."

…Ohh. Now Sanada understands. Paper cranes. The string of paper cranes, that Yukimura had been folding for Noriko. So he'd given them to the girl in the end, hm? Even after Sanada had stormed out of the room in rage, bellowing at Yukimura that this was all madness. God.

Sanada snapped back to reality when Saya slammed her hands down on the desk in front of Sanada, leering over it. "It needs to stop. You don't understand how important this time is! I can't have Noriko getting distracted-"

"Well, is she distracted?"

Saya stopped mid-sentence, frozen. "Huh?"

"I'm asking, is your player distracted? My captain isn't _distracted_, Kamemiya, merely amused. What about your player?"

Saya paused. With a deep sigh, she plopped into the seat in front of the desk, hands rising to cover her face. She groaned, the sound muffled by her hands. "No, she's not."

Sanada 'hmph'ed.

Saya's fingers splayed, then, to reveal her eyes through the gaps between her fingers. "But Noriko's unstable. You wouldn't know, but – she's so _steady_ about soccer all the time, I worry about when she'll burst. When she'll crack. And then, she'll just…_drop_ soccer, I think."

Sanada laughed.

What a funny thing, that. He just hoped his captain would grow bored of Shiori soon; he always did, with most things. It was just that she was a bit harder to crack.

Only that.

* * *

"I suck."

With a groan, Noriko allowed her fingers to uncurl from around the piece of equipment, upon where the item clattered to the floor. Several feet away from her feet rolled a bright, fuzzy green ball. Another sigh, and Noriko plopped to the ground, letting her back hit the floor with a soft thump. Long hair splayed itself in an arc about her head and she squinted her hazel eyes against the sun.

Noriko's cheeks puffed in irritation as a soft, gentle laugh entered her ears, and she covered her face with her hands in mock-embarrassment. She only lowered them when she felt a shadow over herself, and found herself staring directly into sapphire eyes. In surprise, a red flush spread over her cheeks, and she raised her hands again to cover her blush.

"No, you're just new at the sport," Yukimura reasoned, smiling slightly.

They said that the key to beginning romances was teaching the other something. So here he was, teaching her tennis. Of course, Noriko had scoffed at the idea, rolling her eyes. "There's a reason I play soccer; I don't need hand-eye coordination."

But Yukimura was _Yukimura_, and no one ever really said no to him.

"No, she sucks."

Both Noriko and Yukimura looked up at the new face that had entered the view. Kirihara, blue hair obnoxiously bright in the sun, clad in his tennis jersey, pursed his lips as he leered down at the girl on the floor. Suddenly he broke out in a wicked grin, and then he leaned in forward. "Hey, wanna play a game with me? I can show you some _real tennis_-"

"_Akaya." _

Sanada's stern voice had Kirihara snapping upright with a rigid flattening of his lips. Ah, damn, he'd been hoping to show that girl a lesson for last time, but with Sanada-fukubuchou around…

"Fine," Kirihara huffed, and stomped away.

Sanada pinched the bridge of his nose. Just exactly _why_ Yukimura was teaching that girl how to play tennis – who, by the way, sucked like he'd never seen a person suck at tennis – was beyond him. In fact, even she didn't really want to learn , as he recollected.

Oh, wait, Yukimura was _wooing_ the girl, and apparently the best way to do that was display her disability to connect a racket to a round object. Beautiful.

But really, Sanada added as an afterthought. How could a reasonably athletic person suck _so freaking badly_-

Yukimura beamed at Sanada, and he, too, stormed away, not unlike Kirihara just moments prior.

LINE BREAK

"_What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."_

So. Actions speak louder than words, was it? Well, obviously, Yukimura was following what the book had told him to. He was using _actions_, teaching Noriko a sport full of action, to display his intentions. To woo her.

But, really, even he had to admit that she made the worst tennis player he'd ever seen. Ever. Including his dog, who liked to run amok with his tennis rackets in his mouth.

"So. Hold the racket like so."

Yukimura adjusted Noriko's fingers' positions on the racket, watching with amusement as Noriko's expression shifted to one of extreme concentration. It was funny, watching her struggle so hard with something that was like _breathing_ to him.

"Feet apart, hold your balance. You're familiar with balance, right?"

Noriko snorted. "When I'm not holding a stick in my hand and when I'm running around on a huge field, not some square some kid drew in with white paint."

Yukimura found himself laughing.

"Seiichiiii this sport is stupidddd I don't want to do itttt-"

Yukimura patted her shoulder. "If you can hit five balls across the net, _into the court_, I'll buy you another parfait."

He laughed again as Noriko returned her concentration to her grip.

* * *

"Ow!"

"Hey! What are you-"

"Stop it!"

"This isn't how tennis works, is it-?"

"Owwwwwww!"

Niou grinned wickedly as he took a sip of the canned beverage in his hand. He, along with the other tennis regulars, were seated on the nicely shaded tables at the courtside. Various snacks and drinks lay strewn amongst the table, and each boy had his hand around a particular food item.

"Dude, this is better than watching girls' wrestling."

Yagyuu chuckled, popping a blueberry in his mouth with relish. "I think Akaya's having fun."

"_Stop it!"_

Sanada's expression remained rigid. "This is madness-"

"Oh, come on, its not even Akaya's fault. He's lobbing unreasonably easy balls at her. She just…"

"Sucks," Niou completed Yagyuu's sentence, a wide grin across his lips. He had a tendency to fill in Yagyuu's missing words. After all, Niou had no problem with being insulting or crass, where Yagyuu had the appearance of a gentleman to uphold.

"She's not that bad," Yukimura mused, a smile on his lips, amusement mirrored in his eyes.

Marui chortled, choking slightly on his drink. He regained his breath with the help of Jackal, who patted his back. "She hasn't been able to return _one_ ball. Akaya's thrown like, what, a hundred now?"

"Well, to be fair, it's hard to return the ball when Akaya's on the other side of the courts," Yagyuu reasoned.

And, indeed, it was.

Kirihara grinned devilishly, eyes a bright, furious red as he 'lobbed' the next ball over the net. What it really was, was strategically hitting the ball so that it would fall _right_ on Noriko. The girl was so bad she couldn't even return a lob, let alone realize that she should dodge instead of stand there and take all the hits.

Yanagi, in the meantime, mumbled indecipherable words to himself – it was fascinating, how a person with such prowess in one sport could fail so _badly_ at another.

"_OW! STOP HITTING THE SAME SPOT, AT LEAST!"_ resounded from the courts, and Yukimura got up.

"I think she's deserved a parfait, so." And as Yukimura walked up, Niou snorted.

"With all those bruises, she deserves the whole freaking _café_."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys! I know, I know, long time since last update. I got slightly busier, but I promise to update the next chapter faster! (Psst more reviews means a shorter wait time HURRHURR). Anyways. SO yeah the last book was 'Social Aims' by Ralph Waldo Emerson. **

**Let's see who can get the next book right, hm? 8D **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

**Review Replies:**** I know, I know, you're not supposed to do this in the actual chapter, don't shoot me. I'm only replying here to the ones that were submitted 'anonymously,' so that I can't reply to them with a PM, or with settings that I can't PM them. 8U**

**xxxxihatepinkxxxx - AHAHA Thank you so much! I LOVE YOUR REVIEWS. c:**

**genderbenderlover101 - Oh gosh no stop ittt my head is inflating with my ego XD**

**Sivynia - THANK YOU SO MUCH I'M TEARING UP RIGHT NOW. I work hard on the characterizations. OTL**

* * *

_"Mortals are such fragile things. Just tender feelings walking around exposed in their delicate shells...Easy to crush."_

Noriko closed the book with a sense of apathy, brows giving a slight furrow in her confusion. Noriko didn't read much – she simply didn't have time for it these days, what with all the sports and homework school was dumping on her lately. She didn't particularly enjoy reading, but she didn't mind it, like a lot of people she knew. She was, ah, neutral to it, she supposed. In fact, Noriko was neutral to many things, she'd come to realize.

And this book continually talked about _mortality_, about _sentimental_ things. About feelings that led to the death of humans. Really, Noriko didn't understand much of the book's concepts – what 'tender feelings'? Even in movies, she noticed – girls crying and crying when they 'lost' the ones they loved, when really, all it seemed like was a small, short-lived fling. These characters, whether they be in books or movies, seemed so lost in passion in whatever they felt, and Noriko felt…_confused_.

She had many things she loved. She loved her friends, she loved soccer, she loved that exhilarating high she got when she won a game.

But what was all this about a feeling that made her chest constrict like she was being suffocated? She simply didn't get it. She wasn't an insensitive person, or anything, she just didn't feel all these things so much.

In fact, she hadn't really wanted to read this book in the first place, but Seiichi had _insisted_, with that gleam in his eyes and an encouraging nod of his head.

Seiichi was…_funny._ He kept joking of how he'd 'woo' her, making silly little actions that made her laugh. Like those cranes. It was a nice, warm, bubbly feeling, like when one played with a puppy, or got a really nice gift on Christmas eve. He made her pleasantly happy, and though Noriko was easily pleased usually, it was a kind of thing where he kept her _perpetually_ happy.

No one really understood the game-kind of relationship the two shared; the mock-relationship, comfortable companionship they had. Noriko liked Seiichi because he didn't ask questions or pester her about things she really didn't care that much for, because he didn't feel the need to fill every last moment with a word or joke. He was a nice companion – yes, that's the word. Companion. Someone to go watch a movie with when she was feeling languid, someone to read a book with when she wanted silence but didn't want to sit entirely alone.

Someone who simply was _there_, supplying nothing besides his presence and wit when needed.

Noriko didn't mind Seiichi's little running gag of how he'd 'win her over,' because she appreciated his company.

Undemanding, and solid, and reliable.

* * *

_Snap!_

Noriko awoke with a start, eyes blinking rapidly against the blind haze in her vision. A blinding flash had shaken her from her nap, and left her startled in its wake. Noriko looked around, her head swiveling about rapidly in an attempt to figure out what had-

"Seiichi!" she cried, voice shrill, and she stumbled off of her comfortable perch in the cushioned alcove seat. The sunlight that had streamed on to her skin from the window was moved away from, and Noriko shivered unconsciously in her thin shirt and short shorts – not her usual soccer uniform, but the team didn't really practice in real soccer clothes that much anyway.

Yukimura sat before her, cross-legged, a satisfied smile across his lips. His cell phone – a new phone with a camera that had surprisingly high resolution – stood in his grasp, the camera's face pointed towards where Noriko had previously lain. Another nice picture, he mused.

In fact, his library was full of candid photos of various people, and then the picture of their faces when they discovered that Yukimura had taken a photo of him. Marui, striking a pose as he realized Yukimura was taking photos. Sanada, coughing and lowering his hat, Akaya, pouting and lips wide open as he complained.

Noriko – first asleep, and then enraged, bed-hair and shirt twisted slightly.

"Why? It's a cute picture," Yukimura laughed, easily ducking out of Noriko's grabby hands' way. Noriko only groaned some more and continued to try to reach it, though easily held back by Yukimura's longer arms.

"No it's not!"

Yukimura placed his phone safely into his bag, before pulling out his tennis jersey. He handed it silently to Noriko, who paused to mouth a "What?", asking what he intended her to do with it.

Yukimura smiled. "Aren't you cold?"

Noriko broke out in an appreciative smile and shrugged the jacket on, sleeves too long and the edges of the jacket reaching below her waist.

Perhaps this was why Noriko liked spending time with Yukimura. He was so observantly considerate of others, and did things that accommodated them without a word of complaint. He did things without expecting actions in return.

Speaking of which, Noriko realized all of a sudden just how many favors Yukimura had done for her, aside from all the small things he'd done – like giving her his jacket. He'd helped her wrestle through numerous reports and had patiently taught her the math formulas she didn't understand, and then moved on to pick up things from her locker when she was late to practice.

Noriko bit her lip. Wow, did she owe this guy a lot.

Yukimura noticed the change in her expression, and raised a brow questioningly.

Noriko smiled brightly – rather too brightly, Yukimura noted – and rushed out of the library, muttering a 'sorry, gotta go, forgot I had something to do.'

* * *

_Knock._

Sanada's brow twitched. Anyone who had to knock before entering the club room was presumably someone Sanada did not really want to see, since anyone who was close to him merely entered without so much of a notification that they were there. He ignored it, because really, he had too many papersto get through today and-

_Knock knock knock._

Geez, this person was frustrating. Another signature. Sanada scanned three paragraphs of text-

_Knock knock knock knock knock._

Read, read, read, he had to get through these : "-ub maintain its integral mission to-"

_Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock-_

Brow twitching at a rate where it looked as though it were having a seizure on its own, Sanada slammed his pen down. God, he was putting down his pen a lot these days. He grunted out an irritated "Come in," to the door, whereupon it was flung open with enthusiasm.

Sanada pinched the bridge of his nose, awaiting the telltale screech of "SANADA" that would no doubt be-

…Shiori Noriko?

He raised his brows in surprise at the vice-Captain who stood before him, rather than the Captain he'd been expecting. Nevertheless, he folded his hands on the table and looked up expectantly at the girl, who was distracted observing the numerous trophies in the club room.

"…Yes?" Sanada asked aloud at last.

Noriko dropped her hand, which had been edging towards the nearest trophy with curiosity, and whirled about rapidly to face Sanada. She placed a hesitant smile on her face, and waved a timid hello. Goodness, this guy scared her-

"…Do you need anything?"

And then, Noriko's face was suddenly _there_ in close proximity to Sanada's, because she'd dropped to her knees in front of his desk and folded her arms atop _his_ desk and propped her chin on her forearms.

Sanada coughed and backed away slightly.

"Do you know what things Seiichi likes?"

Sanada coughed harshly, then, his face a curious shade of blue and purple all at once. By god. This girl was calling Yukimura _Seiichi._ She was calling him by his first name, already? Jesus, how fast these two moved along-

"Do you?" Noriko asked, resembling a puppy wagging its tail for a treat.

"I really don't know."

Noriko's pout deepened, forehead creasing as she frowned. "But you have to!"

Sanada sighed. It was easy to see the resemblance between Captain and Vice-captain, he noted dryly. "I really, really don't. If I did, I most certainly would tell you in the attempt to get you to leave my office."

Noriko paused, before blinking. "…So do you?"

Sanada closed his notebook with an exasperated, deep sigh.

* * *

"Yukimura."

Yukimura looked up from his perch, jersey billowing from his shoulders as he was known for. Blue eyes greeted Sanada, friendly and warm – and in return, Sanada's own hazel shifted nervously. He really wasn't one for lying, especially not to _Yukimura_, who was quite the devil at figuring out lies, and really why did he have to lie for that stupid girl-

"Yes?"

Sanada caught his own mumbling train of thought, before hastily replying with a "I have some matters to attend to. I'll excuse myself from practice early today."

Yukimura's brows lifted in surprise. My, my, Sanada, leaving practice early? Still, Yukimura didn't really see a need to keep him here, and nodded his consent.

Sanada heaved an inward sigh of relief that Yukimura didn't ask exactly _where_ he was going. That girl – Shiori, was it? – had remained in his office for _two hours._ She'd made threatening promises to come back every day, until Sanada finally relented and agreed to help her go pick out a gift for Yukimura. By god, a girl with that tenacity would do well at a sport.

Sanada turned to leave with a tip of his hat, when-

"Sanadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" rang from the court gates, not far off from where Yukimura and Sanada stood. From the entrance of the courts, Noriko stood, waving exuberantly at the capped boy.

And by the time Sanada turned around to sneak a peek at Yukimura, it was too late. That strange, curious – almost malicious – glint in Yukimura's eyes was unmistakable.

Damn that girl.

Sanada coughed and hurried off.

* * *

"What about this one?"

Noriko pointed at a racket – a racket meant for a _child._ It was, however, pretty, if one found silver and pink flowers decorating one's racket attractive. Sanada nearly choked at the image of Yukimura playing with _that_ kind of racket, and coughed back a laugh. Instead, he gently pried the girlish racket from Noriko's hands, and placed it back on the rack.

"…Why don't you leave the racket choosing to me?"

Noriko's cheeks puffed up in a huff. "Fiiiine," she drawled.

Sanada returned to browsing rackets, eyes glazing over several he considered buying for himself, as well. He had to admit – that girl had been rather practical in thinking of getting Yukimura tennis equipment. He'd half-expected to be dragged to a candy shop, or a girls' clothing boutique. And considering both that girl and Kamemiya's mentality, those choices probably weren't too far off.

He noticed a racket from the same company Yukimura frequently bought from, and reached for it

"Hey what about this one?"

_Thwack._

Sanada blinked dizzily and tried to fight off the black spots swimming about his vision.

In Noriko's enthusiasm to show Sanada the racket she'd picked, she'd, well…accidentally hit him in the face with the object. She dropped the racket with a horrified gasp, and flitted about Sanada nervously, eyes wide and struggling to swallow.

Sanada gripped her forearm tightly, eyes strained as he stood ramrod straight.

"…Just. Go. Far away – to the corner. I'll pick the gift by myself. _Go._"

Noriko, with a whimper, scampered off.

* * *

_"Love makes you foolish. It makes you throw every bit of logic away, do stupid things, dangerous things."_

A soft smile adorned Yukimura's lips at the line – foolish things, was it? Ah, how he longed to be like so. In a world forever trapped in logic and sensibility, he wanted to be so _lost_ in a feeling that he threw everything away to simply gain one thing.

He wanted to be foolish, he wanted to throw all of his logic away.

Alas, he was not that kind of character, he supposed, and never meant to-

"Seiiichiiiiii."

Yukimura looked up, eyes strangely bright and smile even brighter. He closed his book with a quiet thump and set it aside, and clasped his hands together. "Yes?"

Noriko's smile faltered. Yukimura didn't look so happy-

Nevertheless, she grinned, holding a wrapped parcel in her hands. "I got you a gift the other day – Sanada helped me pick it out!"

Yukimura raised a brow – and suddenly, that slight tension in his chest dissipated. His smile became warmer, more relaxed, as he laughed. "Ah, was that what you two were up to?"

Noriko grinned. "Guess what it is!"

"…A racket?"

Noriko's smile faded into a pout. "Did Sanada tell you what it was-"

"…It's wrapped in the shape of a racket, Noriko."

Noriko paused, lips forming an 'o' shape.

"Right. Well. Here you go-"

And before she could finish her sentence, Yukimura had neatly torn off the tape on the haphazard wrapping, revealing the silver-and-blue racket beneath it. His hand wrapped easily about the grip, and he waved it up and down once, twice, as if testing its weight. When he looked up at Noriko with a slight smile, surprise danced in his eyes.

He was impressed – she'd picked a pretty good racket-

Ahh, right. Sanada had gone with her.

"It's very nice, thank you – but it's not my birthday yet," Yukimura laughed.

Noriko shook her head. "No, it's cuz you always help me with stuff – you know? I know how to appreciate things," she tsked, wagging her finger playfully.

Yukimura laughed again.

Appreciation, hm?

* * *

"Don't you two have practice?" Sanada muttered, yanking his cap down with a sense of mild irritation.

Saya looked up from filing her nails, leaned comfortably against the tennis courts' gates. She pursed her lips, and flattened her eyes. "Yes, we do. But Noriko's here, and I'm not going to leave her alone with a group of _hormonal boys-_"

"Kamemiya, please. Don't go there," Sanada held up a hand, as if somehow physically warding off Saya's words.

Saya shrugged and resumed filing her nails.

It was true, they should be at their own practice, but it wasn't that big of a deal to miss one or two, not now. Rikkai Dai's girls' team had three strings of players; in the first rounds, they sent out their third and second strings. By the time they neared the quarter and semi finals of the tournament, the first stringers were put into the game.

It was still the game before the quarter finals, which meant that Noriko didn't have to train _quite_ as hard. Besides, Noriko had promised to come over to Saya's house that afternoon for a small one-on-one game between the two in her back yard.

It was all good.

Saya sighed as she eyed Noriko, several feet away and speaking animatedly with the tennis team captain – Yukimura Seiichi.

She was rather sure that Yukimura treated Noriko as some sort of play phase, and she was tentatively sure Noriko wasn't all that serious about this, either. Actually, Saya wasn't quite sure what kind of relationship the two even had – it wasn't anywhere near coupledome, though it seemed a tiny bit more than friends.

After all, what kind of friends constantly visited each other's practice times even when they saw one another during lunch?

Saya believed in a theory that said girls and boys simply could _not_ have a purely platonic friendship. Never.

She just hoped Noriko would drop this stupid game soon-

"_Captain!_"

Saya dropped her file at the sudden cry, raising her brows at the entrance to the courts. A second-year girl – ponytail and soccer uniform and all – stood there, panting and sweating as though she'd run a long way. …Oh? Misami Ayu, one of her second string players?

Saya walked over, combing a hand through her hair.

Noriko, too, temporarily paused in her conversation to look towards Saya and Ayu, curiosity piqued.

Saya couldn't understand what the girl was trying to say.

"_I don't know-"_

"_They don't even go here-"_

"_Kicking things everywhere-"_

"_Half of our second string and-"_

"_You have to come quick!"_

Brows raised and appearing slightly taken aback, Saya raised both of her hands in front of her in a signal for Ayu to slow down. The girl obeyed, choking on her saliva and taking rapid, large gulps of air. Finally, when she opened her mouth, startling clarity ran from her lips:

"A group of girls from another school suddenly came in, demanding a game! S-So we thought it wouldn't hurt, you know, since we have a match coming up soon and everything, a-and what could have gone wrong? A-And we started playing, and our third stringers were wiped out in a matter of _minutes_, and then the last time I saw, our second stringers were being flattened, too- I didn't stay, because I-I thought I should come get you guys, and-"

Sanada was surprised at the expression on Saya's features – for the first time, she actually appeared to play the stoic part of Captain, eerily calm in the face of her player's apparent panic. She patted the girl's shoulder, then turned around to eye Noriko, silently questioning if she'd heard.

Noriko nodded once, expression more lax than Saya's, though without a smile.

Saya tipped her head towards the exit, and Noriko immediately waved a friendly 'bye' to Yukimura, following her Captain out the door.

Marui approached Sanada, hands clasped comfortably behind his head. "What do you think _that's_ all about?"

Sanada shrugged. "I'm sure Kamemiya will deal with it accordingly – back to practice!"

* * *

For the next few days, Yukimura did not meet Noriko – in fact, he hadn't even caught a _glimpse_ of the girl.

She did not show up once in the library, nor did she come to visit him during practices. When Yukimura dropped by the soccer fields, Saya had been there, but no traces of Noriko. He wondered if she was absent entirely, but when he asked her teacher – on an offhand voice, 'because she had borrowed something of his' – he was given the reply that no, she still had perfect attendance for that month.

Curiosity piqued – and slightly irritated – Yukimura approached Saya at last during practice. "Do you know where Noriko is?"

Yukimura's eyes widened as Saya's lips pursed and a strangely alien tense expression came over her, as though a curtain had been drawn over her features. He was further surprised when she replied with a "I don't know. If you find her, tell her to attend practice and answer her _damn phone._"

* * *

Two days later, Yukimura came across her on accident. He'd been called up to the roof by a confession letter, and it would have been rude not to show up when the girl had written that she'd continue to wait. So he went, and found himself surprised to find not only the girl who had been intending to confess, but Noriko as well.

Noriko was lounging on a corner of the roof, sipping a bottle of water languidly, fingers flying over the keypad of her phone as she texted.

For the second time, he saw the girl in her proper uniform.

For a few minutes, he blatantly ignored the other girl – stuttering, blushing, mumbling a confession – and stared pointedly at Noriko. Finally, she looked up, and after surprise flickered across her features, she grinned lazily and waved.

As though nothing were wrong, as if nothing had changed.

Yukimura hardly heard a word of 'Akane's confession, eyes constantly darting back to Noriko.

He placed on a beautiful smile and murmured his thanks and sorries, before brushing past her with a "I'll see you around."

He stopped in front of Noriko and looked down at the girl, who looked up, a straw between her lips casually, a teasing grin on her lips. "Wooooow – pretty popular, aren'tcha?"

Yukimura wasn't sure whether to be puzzled or relieved or irritated at her all-too casual attitude.

Suddenly, though, he wasn't quite sure what to say, so he went with a "Kamemiya-san said she wanted you to be at practice, and to call her-"

"Oh, that?" Noriko laughed. "I won't go to practice, and she knows it. She's just being stubborn."

Yukimura raised his brows. "Why?"

Noriko shrugged with an easy smile. "I quit soccer."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: SO YEAH. HI MY LOVELIES. 3 No quotes this chapter. Didn't have time to incorporate them. A MEGA MASS FLOW OF QUOTES WILL START SOON THOUGH. MUAHAHAHA. |D Now. Read and review? 3**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

* * *

_"Oh, that?" Noriko laughed. "I won't go to practice, and she knows it. She's just being stubborn."_

_Yukimura raised his brows. "Why?"_

_Noriko shrugged with an easy smile. "I quit soccer."_

And before Yukimura could have asked anything about her words, Noriko had strolled away in a comfortable air, leaving him behind to mull over his thoughts.

* * *

After that, as if some sort of spell had been broken, Noriko returned to their 'library lunch' times, wearing an easy grin and a lax attitude that had Yukimura slightly confused. The only difference was the lack of her sports duffel bag and soccer uniform, and Yukimura began to get used to this Noriko - the one who wore the uniform like every other student, who no longer talked of practices ad soccer.

Still, he knew that this Noriko was not the real one, but he did not question her. He was curious, yes - morbidly so, really, of how a girl who breathed the sport suddenly quit. But Noriko was the type, he knew, to tell if she wanted to, and if she didn't say anything, he didn't want to pry it out of her.

And that was why he went to Kamemiya Saya, instead.

"I'd like to know what happened two weeks ago, please. Thank you."

Saya looked around, irritation on her features, until she saw Yukimura's expression - the one that spoke volumes of '_I'm the Child of __**God**_." A tight, barely-there smile was stretched across his face, iced over with a sort of stiffness that made it very obvious that he wasn't happy. But he was still beaming, somehow, eyes sparkling.

Saya gulped. No wonder _that_ Sanada followed this guy.

"I-"

She seemed to choke, before regaining her breath. She glanced around quickly, as if to make sure no one was around to hear them, before pulling Yukimura harshly over a few paces, to a more secluded spot. She ducked her head and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper.

"Look. I don't want to tell you this, but I am, on the off-chance you might be able to convince Noriko. You probably won't," she began. She bit her lip. "We…we lost, that day."

Yukimura straightened up slightly, surprise mirrored in his gaze. It was surprising that they'd lost, but - was that _really_ the reason Noriko could have quit? It was such an absurd, silly reason-

"And Noriko…she just _didn't know what to do._"

Saya's eyes grew moist, and Yukimura found himself wishing Sanada was here to take care of this crying girl. He was a kind person, but he still didn't like dealing with crying girls. He was sure Sanada didn't, either, but maybe he wouldn't mind this particular girl.

"Look. Just. Talk to her? And if she won't reply, at least tell her to talk to me? She simply _won't talk to me._"

And though Yukimura wanted to ask more questions about the loss, it seemed as though Saya was convinced not to let on any more than she already had. Perhaps it was her pride as the so-called 'national champion' team, or perhaps it was simply because she was still in shock over it, too, but she did not say anything more.

And Saya, Saya did not know herself why she had told Yukimura even the slightest bit. That day - they'd lost. And perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad; she knew that ranking-wise, there was another team that was closely on their heels, and they may have suddenly surged ahead. But that team-

"_Hurts, doesn't it? Losing to people like us. People you looked down on, huh?"_

The captain's words still rang achingly clear in Saya's mind.

Because that team was an unseeded team. A team that had requested to play theirs last year, and had been brutally laughed down, because Rikkai Dai was the reigning National Champions, and they weren't even seeded. Because Rikkai Dai played elitist with who they 'deigned' to play with.

And somehow, that same team had become good enough to _defeat_ them.

Noriko - she did not quit because she lost, Saya knew. She quit, because it was as though she'd hit a wall - a glass wall, where she could see the other side, but she could not reach it. For a girl who had never lost a serious game against someone in her age division, a loss was shocking.

But for a girl who played more soccer than she slept, for a girl like that, Saya knew that Noriko didn't know what to do. Because it felt as though something had crumbled - the carefully woven net beneath her had ripped, and she'd fallen straight through.

Noriko was at a loss of action, and she'd done the only thing she _could_.

And Saya had told Yukimura what she had, on the desperate, desperate hope that a miracle would occur and he would convince Noriko to come back. Come back to soccer, and come back to being Saya's friend. But deep down, Saya didn't want Yukimura to be able to convince Noriko.

Because it hurt. It hurt, that Noriko ignored her phone calls and avoided her in the hallways, when they were sworn sisters and 'partners-in-crime.' And Saya desperately tried to not think about the what if - what if Yukimura was able to convince Noriko. Yukimura, who had met Noriko only a few months ago.

Where would that leave Saya?

* * *

"Hey, Seiichi, can I have some of that ca-"

"Why did you quit?"

Noriko froze, and the plastic fork slipped through her fingers. She stared for a moment, eyes strangely wide and expression looking so simply _lost_ that Yukimura felt his will deteriorate slightly. A flash of loss sparked across her eyes, before disappearing quickly behind a too-bright smile, as Noriko shoved a laugh through her lips. "Just because. It got boring."

Yukimura, though his smile remained, signaled his disapproval by the sheer cold in his eyes.

Noriko's bright smile faltered.

"Really?" he asked.

Noriko's smile faded away into a careful expression crafted of nonchalance. She shrugged. "It's pointless to play a sport you can't even win."

Yukimura's eyes darkened. Disapproval lingered in his gaze, and Noriko seemed to catch on, despite her supposed oblivious disposition. She lowered her eyes, and chose to stare at the ground than at Yukimura's face.

"Isn't that a pity?" he murmured.

And then, Yukimura left, leaving Noriko alone and squatting on the carpet floor.

* * *

For the week that followed, it was Yukimura who avoided Noriko. Well, not so much avoid, as didn't see. Because Noriko did not try to find him, another source of his deepening disappointment. Still, he did not go to the library, nor did he spare even a glance in the direction of the soccer courts.

"_It's pointless to play a sport you can't even win."_

Her answer triggered such an absurd amount of disappointment, Yukimura didn't even understand why. Why should he care what her motives were for playing a sport?

Still, he'd thought that she felt for soccer a bit like he felt for tennis. As if soccer had been a part of her _identity._ And to think that she'd quit because she lost, because she stopped winning…it made him simply disappointed.

But he wasn't supposed to. He wasn't even supposed to care. He was supposed to feel a twinge of pity that she wasn't as interesting as he'd initially thought, but not like this.

Whatever. It was nothing. Just a passing swell of emotion.

_Twang!_

Yukimura's arm swung fiercely, and his racket connected spot-on with the bright, fuzzy yellow ball. It hurtled over the net and slammed past his opponent, who grunted and readjusted his hat. Sanada looked up at Yukimura, lips pursed.

His captain's game, as usual, was perfect.

Still.

He didn't seem to be having as much fun as he used to.

Sanada sighed. Why was life so _hard_?

LINE BREAK

The breeze blew through her hair, and hazel eyes regarded the too-blue sky with a lack of interest. Brows furrowed together as a straw dangled idly from pale lips, pursed into a thin line. Noriko leaned her forehead against her propped hand on the edge of the roof, and let out another sigh.

Her eyes followed the white clouds that drifted by.

"Hehhhh…so this is where you are these days, huh? Good riddance of an eyesore," a snide voice remarked.

Noriko lifted her head instantly and turned around. Her brows lifted in surprise when she found a devilish second-year standing before her, hands shoved languidly into his pockets, a wide smirk across her lips. She put on another bright grin on her face-

"Drop that bullshit smile, it pisses me off. We're not all morons."

Her smile shattered on the floor, and Noriko could hear the glass pieces breaking into a million pieces.

"Just so you don't go thinking stupid ideas with that stupid head of yours, I didn't come here to find you. I came here to beat some fuckers up cuz they were messing with me."

At this point, Kirihara jerked a thumb in the direction behind him, and Noriko peeked over his shoulder. Her brows rose again, when she noticed three limp bodies on the floor.

She couldn't bring herself to crack a smile, though.

Kirihara seemed to glow with pleasure.

"But since you're here, I gotta say. No wonder you lost. You don't have the guts of a winner."

Because winners never quit, even when they lost.

At that point, Noriko's eyes flashed with a tinge of anger. She narrowed her eyes, and for the first time, Kirihara saw something _other_ than oblivious happiness lingering in her expression. It made him strangely pleased with himself.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she murmured, each word punctuated with the tension of her effort to speak quietly.

"Don't I?"

And then Kirihara strolled away.

Noriko watched his retreating back with an ironic smile playing on her lips.

Everyone seemed to be walking _away_ from her these days, hm?

* * *

A week later, Yukimura had left his cell phone foolishly in the tennis club room on a Saturday, and considering the next day was a weekend, he'd come back for it around six at night. The skies had been gray and cloudy for the entire day, and he'd been smart enough to bring along an umbrella just in case - because halfway between his house and the school, something short of a downpour occurred.

Yukimura watched as the droplets of water slid down idly on his window pane, and cared random symbols into the fogged glass with mild amusement. He drew a tennis ball, then a tennis racket, then a tennis net, and then a soccer ball-

And then, he wiped the whole thing clean with his sleeve, and sat back in his chair and stared quietly ahead.

When the car pulled into the driveway, he was relieved to see that the gates were still open - it was expected. There was always at least a club or two practicing late into the night all the time; his own team practiced until seven on certain weekdays.

Yukimura retrieved his phone from the club room, and after safely locking the building, began to walk past the courts, blue umbrella open and shielding his form from the rain. He'd begun to turn towards the gate area, when a sound entered his keen ears - a sound he'd heard distantly many times before. The sound of one of those machines the soccer club used, in order to fire off balls for kicking practice.

He'd actually seen Noriko use it several times herself - she'd brilliantly kicked every last ball into the goal post with ease, even when a fellow teammate stood as goalie.

In fact, she'd once pressed the wrong button and ended up shooting the ball at his head, he remembered.

Out of curiosity, Yukimura made a slight turn and ended up at the soccer fields soon enough. He peered through the gates, trying to figure out who was in the field, practicing with the machine. It was hard to see past the pouring rain, really, and the girl's back was to him.

She must be a new freshman, he mused, as he watched her miss almost every single shot.

He turned to leave, when he found himself facing one of the campus security guards. He noted the man's black umbrella with a twinge of sympathy for being on the job in the rain. Yukimura smiled politely and nodded his head, and turned to leave, when-

"Do you know that girl?" the man asked, nudging his chin towards the figure in the grass field.

Yukimura paused and after glancing at the figure, shook his head as a no.

"Hm. Pity. I wish someone would come out here to stop her."

Yukimura finally stopped attempting to leave, and stilled, curiosity piqued. "Hm? Why?"

The security guard clucked his tongue. "She's been out here for hours for weeks, now. She's barely able to make a single goal a day, though. Poor girl - she tries so hard, too."

Yukimura then walked a slight distance forward, angling himself so that he could see the side of the girl's face-

-and he nearly dropped his umbrella.

Because that girl, who could not kick a single ball into the goal post, was _Noriko._ Noriko, with the familiar stream of sweat running down her neck, with that familiar ponytail now curled into a bun, with that familiar soccer uniform and cleats.

She was soaked to the bone, skin pale in the cold, water streaming down her cheeks and fluttering on her lashes. Her breath was visible in the chilly air, and even as she struggled for breath, she slammed her foot into the next ball that hurtled forward.

And like every other time, she missed the goal completely.

* * *

"Noriko."

The girl froze.

"_Noriko._"

The girl still didn't turn around.

One hand still gripped on the umbrella's handle, Yukimura reached out with his other arm. He tugged harshly on the girl's shoulder, who was limply swung around in accordance to his motions.

Yukimura barely kept from taking a sharp intake of breath.

Because Noriko, with her bangs and hair plastered against her cheeks and forehead, skin paler than he'd ever seen, and lips bright red from all the biting she'd done, looked utterly _lost._ Her eyes were widened and flickering with something foreign on her features - despair, and a lack of direction.

"What are you doing?" he asked, finally.

_Clang._

The ball machine had yet to be stopped, and shot off another ball. It bounced harmlessly into the metal gate behind them.

The rain continued to pour.

Yukimura tried to take a step closer so that she, too, could be shielded from the rain, but Noriko took a step back.

"Answer me," he murmured, firmly, for once without a smile on his lips as he faced the girl.

"I…" Noriko licked her lips. She stared at the ground.

"_Answer me._"

"I was…well, this isn't _practice._ It's not practice when I'm not getting better," she finally murmured, a strange bitter current to her words. Her voice was a harsh, hoarse tone, rather than the springy, carefree sound it had had before.

Yukimura waited.

_Clang._ Another ball.

"You wanted to know why I quit?" she asked at last, raising her head from the grass below to face Yukimura. Something - was it disappointment? Shame? - gleamed from her eyes, that were bright with unshed tears. "This is why, Seiichi."

Noriko gestured at the askew balls that surrounded the field, and a dry, humorless laugh passed her lips. "Because I _can't play._ It's not that I won't - I don't have a choice. I can't."

Noriko gripped the front of her shirt until her knuckles turned white. "I try and I try and I try so hard I think I might die of exhaustion, but I still _can't._ You saw me."

And then, as her lips twisted into a sardonic smile, Yukimura wasn't sure if the water streaming down her cheeks was the rain or something else.

"_I can't play soccer!_" she finally _screamed._

Her voice was drowned out by the rain.

The statement was accompanied by another _Clang!_ as another ball shot off at the gates.

Noriko pressed a hand harshly against her mouth and raked the other through her hair. A violent shudder racked her body, and Yukimura realized with a mild sense of surprise and _discomfort_, that she was suppressing a sob. The girl in front of him collapsed to a squat on the grass, tears streaming down her cheeks and running over her hand.

"I've lost it. _I've lost soccer."_

And Yukimura, Yukimura found himself hating this Noriko. He'd wanted to play with the other Noriko - the one that was hard to figure out with all her strange sayings and mechanics, the cheery one who didn't seem to give a damn. The one that irritated him by her sheer apathy to everything, by her ridiculous notions of not being able to lose.

This one, he hated.

Because this one looked so _frail _and _fragile_, curled into a small ball on the vast field of grass. Because this one did not have that disgustingly arrogant sense of confidence.

Because this one was crying, and he found himself hating her tears. And he found himself hating that he couldn't stop them even more.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: HEY, ALL. So yeah, I'm sorry I disappointed some of you guys with a short chapter last time around. This one is a bit longer, to make up for that – YAY! Teehee. Anyways, I really hope you like it, but I doubt you will, because this was written at 2 AM in one, one-hour sitting. ;A;**

**Anyways, I think from here on out their relationship is what I'll focus harder on, SO. It's a reaaally important period for you guys to tell me what you think of their characters, etc., in order for me to hopefully not make a complete mess of things! XD**

**READ & REVIEW, MY LOVELIES.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

* * *

This time around, Noriko explicitly avoided Yukimura.

It irritated him. He knew that she knew he was irritated, and he knew that she knew that he knew that she knew he was irritated. And yes, to his irritated mind, that load of repeated of words made perfect sense.

And he knew that she was avoiding him and it wasn't just all in his head. Why? Because every time he approached the girl, she literally _dropped everything _and _ran_.

"Is Noriko here?" the words spilled from his lips the moment his presence graced the doorway – upon which half of the girls in the classroom promptly dropped everything and ran towards him.

A single girl, however, caught his eye – the girl who promptly dropped everything, including _herself._ Among the clatter of pencils hitting the floor, Yukimura saw the flying hair as Noriko ducked down and hid under her desk. Yukimura saw, and he tilted his head to catch a glimpse of her expression-

-the face she would wear while explicitly avoiding him.

And that face was blank, a carefully crafted mask of indifference that Yukimura _despised._

That had been the last time Yukimura had gone to try to seek her out; he'd tried multiple times before that, on the rooftop, in the halls, in the cafeteria. He'd even tried going to the fields after school again, but according to the campus guard, the girl hadn't returned after that rainy night. She'd run away at all those times, and he'd had enough.

She wasn't interesting anymore. She was just another boring, scared girl. She'd obviously given up on soccer, after he'd seen her that night.

She was just…another girl.

So Yukimura dropped it all.

He dropped the silver racket, he dropped the glances towards the soccer fields, and he dropped his interest entirely.

Shiori Noriko was out.

* * *

Yukimura found her by pure, accidental coincidence.

His dog had needed a walk, and he'd needed air, and the pair traipsed through the small park near his neighborhood. It was small, but it had a grass field and tennis and basketball courts, so it was always filled with small children.

It was by the grass field that his dog had happened to run by, and Yukimura chased after him; his dog came to a stop just beside the grass, nose sniffing at the greenery, beady black eyes shimmering as he gazed off to the center of the field.

Yukimura looked up, and felt his breath catch.

Because in the center of the field, a girl was dancing – well, not dancing, but the way her feet thread easily through the glass gave an appearance of dancing. The sunlight gleamed off of her brown locks, which whipped about her face as she twirled once, twice, a delighted laugh spilling from her lips. Her arms were held up high as she spun again, uniform skirt fanning out along with her hair, an excited gleam in her eyes.

Around her, younger, elementary-school students ran about, tiny limbs flailing as they fumbled for the ball.

And in the center of them all, the girl continued to waltz, the ball gliding easily along the floor under her control.

A small boy ran in, then, flinging his bag hastily to the floor as he hurried to the grass. However, he bumped slightly into Yukimura, who smiled down at the apologizing child. He bent down.

"How often is that girl here?" he asked.

The boy grinned back, a full-blown toothy smile. "Every day! She plays with us kids, and teaches us really, really cool stuff-"

The girl looked up at last, hazel eyes meeting steely blue.

Everything froze, and Noriko's bright smile slowly faded, replaced with a tightening of her lips and a lowering of her arms.

Yukimura took a step forward.

She took a step back.

He stepped forward.

She stepped back.

It was a strange, disgustingly cliché scene that had Yukimura wanting to laugh at the silly dance they were dancing here, under the hot sun and the laughing children.

And then, she _ran_, and Yukimura couldn't stop the smile that lit his lips.

He smiled, and ran too.

* * *

Long-haired and dressed in a pretty blouse and skirt, the girl stumbled through the park. And just behind her, a blue-haired boy followed, amusement dancing in his eyes. To onlookers, it was like a scene from a teen movie, with the backdrop of the peaceful park.

That is, until the boy easily caught up with her, hand closing around the girl's thin wrist – and at that point, the girl _shrieked._ She yelled and she screamed and she twisted her wrist, because she couldn't bear to face the boy.

And the boy easily pressed her against the tree beside them, brows raised and a hint of malicious amusement in his eyes and lips.

Noriko froze for a moment, before twisting her gaze away and staring at the ground.

"Look at me."

And she didn't, because she felt as though she would cry the moment she saw his face – because Yukimura reminded her of everything she'd lost. Because he was still the Child of God, he was still the brilliant tennis player, and she-

-she had lost _everything._

And then Yukimura planted his hands on her face, palms on her cheeks and brought her gaze upwards. She saw the blinding sun, framing Yukimura's face from her view, and she paused. He was _like the sun-_

"Why are you running?"

Noriko bit her lip.

"_Tell me._"

And like a magic spell, Noriko complied – because there was something about Yukimura that made it impossible to deny him anything.

"Because it hurts. It hurts, okay?" Noriko pushed him away and walked away, briskly, crossing her arms as if to ward off the infinitely amused gaze Yukimura sent her.

Yukimura jogged and caught up easily, longer legs moving easily to keep up with her fast pace. He joined his hands behind his back, and raised his brows; an expectant, wily smile graced his lips. "Why? Why does it hurt?"

Noriko ignored him, and kept walking.

"Where does it hurt? Your head? Your arm? Your-"

He was ignored.

"I can make it stop, you know."

Noriko stopped abruptly, and whirled around, eyes narrowed. "No, you can't. You don't- You don't know what it feels like, _Yukimura._ You haven't lost the past _fifteen years_ of your life-!"

Anger flashed in hazel orbs, and Yukimura found himself breathlessly elated at the foreign emotion on Noriko's face.

"No, but I've been losing _every day_ for the past fifteen years – but I just got it all back," he murmured.

Noriko froze.

And suddenly, she felt all-too childish, crying about how she'd lost soccer, when in front of her stood an amazing boy. The boy who had fought his entire life for something as simple as _moving._ He had fought and defeated the undefeatable, he'd tugged his life back from the iron grip of fate.

Noriko only clamped her lips shut and looked away.

She felt a hand grip hers, and she looked up, eyes wide.

"Let's play. Let's play, something other than soccer and tennis and sports. Let's play with _life._"

Because for people like Noriko and Yukimura, life was about the exhilaration of the game, about the chest-constricting moment of victory.

It was about time they played the game of _life_.

* * *

"Just try it."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"It's a _mechanical hand_ – that's so creepy!"

"You're just scared you're going to lose."

"What- Huh- No I won't!"

"You sure?"

"Of course! I wouldn't lose to a freaking _fake hand._"

"Why don't you prove it."

"Fine! I will!"

Noriko marched over to the machine – a flat platform a bit above waist level. From the black table, a pale, white metal hand arose, fingers positioned just so that it would be easy for another hand to grip around it, the way two hands would be if people were to arm-wrestle. She reached down and firmly gripped the mechanical hand, wincing slightly as she did.

This thing was _uncanny._

And then, Yukimura inserted the coins and the machine burst to life, the hand angling downwards.

Noriko flailed for a moment, before pushing back-

-to no avail. She lost, in the span of three seconds, bewilderment on her expressions.

"What was that?"

"…That was you losing, Noriko."

"What? No! No, this isn't fair! Put the coins in!"

With a laugh, Yukimura complied. His eyes watched Noriko, whose tongue licked her upper lip in concentration and eyes narrowed at the hand in front of her.

She was like an adult and a teenager and a child all at once, traipsing through the pages of a fairy tale that had just gone wrong. She seemed so naïve and moronic and clever and _experienced_ at the same time, it was uncanny. In some areas Noriko surpassed her peers in knowledge and maturity, and in others, she was like a newborn baby.

It was infinitely amusing to watch.

The hand cranked to life, and again, Noriko let out a pitiful cry as she lost once more to the power of the machine.

It was expected, of course; Yukimura hadn't had an inkling of expectation for her to actually win. She was a soccer player, entirely dependent on her lower-body strength. Her upper body muscles – her arms, shoulders, etc, were obviously weaker than her legs.

This was only the result of years of training her legs.

"This game is _so rigged._"

Yukimura laughed, before raising his brows. "No, it's not. It's not that hard, you just lack strength."

Noriko huffed, air blowing into her cheeks indignantly. "Then you do it!"

Yukimura laughed again, before stepping forward. The familiar clink of coins was heard, just before the hand cranked into motion.

Noriko watched with growing anticipation as she awaited his loss. Yukimura found delight in the jaw-dropping, disbelieving expression Noriko wore as his own hand slammed the mechanical one down in a single, fluid sweeping motion. He beamed.

He stepped back and shook his hand out once, twice, before waving it teasingly in her face. Noriko, a pout on her lips, swatted it away, brows furrowing. "I broke the machine, so it worked for you," she mumbled, pursing her lips.

Yukimura laughed.

It was almost sickening, how many times he laughed when she was around. She had the strangest, funniest things to say that struck him just right, and he felt himself drowning in this bubbly feeling at times.

And what was strange was that she'd never been to an _arcade._

For a girl like Noriko – with such a voracious appetite for all forms of fun available – it was a large surprise that she'd never once been here. Then again, it wasn't surprising, considering her best friend to be Kamemiya, with a rather large stick up her-

Yeah.

And Yukimura, as silly as it had been, had brought her here. Simply for the sheer shits and giggles, because he was tired of being the Child of God and he was sure she was tired of being serious. He wanted to play like every other person his age, he wanted to play a game that had no consequences, he wanted to fool around and laugh and have fun.

Noriko seemed to be the perfect companion. She, too, was tired of losing – tired of gambling and hoping and losing it all. She, too, wanted to play games that didn't have consequences, that didn't leave you crippled when you lost.

So they were both here, desperately childish in their wishes to lose nothing when they didn't win.

Perhaps this was why Yukimura was fascinated with Noriko – because just like him, she placed everything on the line with every game she played, and just like him, she couldn't afford to lose.

But she had, and the price was unimaginable.

But it was hard to see that here, when they were seated at car racing stimulation games – his hands loosely, casually on the pseudo-steering wheel, hers, gripping the black object tightly as though it were _real._ The game was easy: maneuver one's car to victory first, spinning hazily on bridges and keeping the car from going too AWOL.

Noriko drove like a drunk person even in virtual reality, and he feared for when she got a real license. Still, he laughed anyway when she honked wildly, slapping the button with her palm in excitement.

She lost the game.

She lost, and she didn't feel that crippling, overwhelming sense of _loss_. She lost and she loved it – the way Yukimura mock-gloated, the way she pouted, the way it wasn't serious even when she ended up in ninth place.

And then she realized that she _had_ lost in real life, that she had lost it all, and the smile slipped quickly from her lips.

Yukimura caught it.

"It's not that bad, you know. Losing."

Noriko stared silently ahead, at the screen flashing 'LOSER' back at her. The blue beamed back onto her face, casting a ghost-like sheen on her features.

"Losing makes you stronger, remember?"

And then, Noriko spoke. "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger?" her voice wavered, lips trembling. She swallowed, then turned to face Yukimura.

"But what happens when it _does_ kill you?" The question spilled so earnestly from her lips – it wasn't sarcastic, it wasn't rhetoric. It was an honest, almost desperate question, and the longing for an answer blinked from her eyes.

Yukimura stared back.

"Then you drag yourself out of the pits of hell, and take your life back from the cold hands of the devil himself."

Noriko's eyes widened.

* * *

That night, Noriko couldn't sleep; usually, sleep took her the moment her lids fluttered shut. Tonight, sleep avoided her, and it didn't seem to be anywhere near.

She blinked up into the darkness, eyes adjusting to the lack of light; her hazel orbs roamed across her wide, blank ceiling, and she found herself wishing she hadn't taken down those glow-in-the-dark stickers she'd had up there, after all. She'd at least have had something to look at, then, and think about, other than this desolate feeling deep in her gut.

"_Then you drag yourself out of the pits of hell, and take your life back from the cold hands of the devil himself."_

Had Yukimura been serious?

Hadn't he seen how she couldn't do a thing? Because every time, as the ball sailed towards her, her body shut down. She couldn't move, and she struggled desperately against the invisible binds that held her back.

By the time the ball reached her, all she could do was fling a limb out and hope that her body moved.

Did he know, how that felt? That crippling paralysis?

That horrifying moment, when she lost control of her _own body_? That immense frustration, because her mind was telling her body to move, and it wouldn't obey?

Did he?

He couldn't possibly know.

It was with this thought Noriko closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Let's go, Noriko."

Noriko looked up from her perch on the windowsill, a book clutched tightly in her hands. At a certain point, the black lines had all blurred into one, and she was no longer reading; still, she liked sitting here. It was quiet, and the sunlight danced across her skin in warm tingles.

It was peaceful-

-that is, until she found Yukimura Seiichi smiling calmly down at her, hand outstretched.

Noriko quirked a brow.

"It's time for practice. Let's go to the fields together."

Noriko's eyes narrowed, and her lips flattened into a line. "Are you kidding with me?"

Yukimura shook his head. "No."

At that point, Noriko closed her book with an exaggeratedly loud thump, and rose from her seat. She walked briskly past Yukimura's hand, irritation flaring and anger growing, and stalked into the area between two bookshelves. She slid her book into the area where it had come from, though with a bit more force than necessary.

Yukimura followed, and Noriko's irritation grew.

"Why not?"

Noriko's eyes bore into the gold engravings on the book covers, as she tried – and failed – to find a new book. "Because."

Yukimura prompted, "'Because'…?"

Noriko sighed, and rolled her eyes. She walked further into aisle, eyes never leaving the bookshelf in front of her. "Because, I can't play," she ground out.

Why was he asking her this? He knew it all. He knew it, and Noriko found it horrible that he made her repeat it all over again.

"No, you _won't_ play."

Noriko's lips pressed into an even thinner line, if that were possible. She still didn't look at him. "No. I _can't_ play. Do I need to show you again?"

Yukimura's lips twitched. "I think you're just scared."

Noriko didn't even grace _that_ one with a reply. Irritation bubbled from her stomach, at Yukimura's complete _insensitivity_ about it all. He knew she couldn't play, he'd seen her pitiful form. He'd seen her, he knew, and he should damn well leave her alone-

"I think you're being a coward, Noriko."

Noriko's hand instinctively clamped around a random book, which she then _hurled_ at Yukimura, rage in her eyes and hair whipping about as she turned to glare angrily at the boy.

Yukimura tilted his head, and the book narrowly missed his cheek, slamming into the wall behind them. He quirked a brow. "What was that for?"

Noriko felt her anger grow even _more_, irrationality taking over her emotions. She grabbed another book, and with a growl, threw it even harder than before.

Again, Yukimura dodged easily – and this fueled her anger. If he would only get _hit_ just once, it would make her feel so much better-!

"For your insensitivity!" she shrieked, and threw another book.

The library didn't have a librarian, even, after school hours – there was no one around to stop her.

She missed again.

"Insensitive? Me? How?"

Noriko gave a frustrated cry, and threw another book.

It missed, again, and hit the wall behind Yukimura.

Yukimura? Why, he was _positively exhilarated_ at the emotions that danced across Noriko's usually calm face, at the anger he was sure he was privileged to see. 'Chill,' they called her – never angry, never worked up, always, always lazily happy and pleasant.

Not anymore.

"You know I can't play, so why do you insist on stabbing my sore side?" Noriko demanded, another book held up.

Yukimura's lips twitched, and he barely managed to contain a smile. "I don't know. Because you _can_ play?"

Noriko threw the book – a thick encyclopedia volume. That would've hurt, had it hit. Ouch.

"_I can't!_"

Another book, another miss, another twitch on Yukimura's lips.

"But you can. You just won't, because _you're a coward._"

And then, with a wild, angry shriek, Noriko began to grab books in both hands and simply _fling_ them out, at Yukimura, at the ground, at the walls – everything. Yukimura watched with fascination, at the enraged girl with tears beginning to form in her eyes from the pure anger she felt.

She was no longer angry at _him_, but at her own frustration, at her own loss.

Yukimura stood quietly, calmly, hands neatly inside the pockets of his pants. He watched, as Noriko cleared the bookshelf, and then the next, and the next. Pages were ripped and flew about, causing a rain of black-and-white in the library, and he could smell the mustiness of it all. Books were everywhere in a disarray.

Finally, a random book was thrown at him directly, and he caught it easily before it hit his face.

That seemed to do it.

Tears burst from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks – but they were different from the tears on that rainy day. These were angry, these were frustrated. These tears demanded of anyone who knew, why she could no longer play. These had a myriad of emotions played across them, and Yukimura loved every one.

"You don't know anything – you don't know how it _feels_, to be _paralyzed._ My body _just won't listen_, Seiichi-! My body won't fucking _move_, even when my mind is screaming at it!"

Noriko threw another book weakly, and it hit the ground in front of Yukimura.

"You don't know. So stop it. I can't do it."

Yukimura crossed the distance between them in two easy steps-

_Slap!_

-and slapped her; not hard, not soft, but a simple slap across her tear-stained cheeks.

Noriko's eyes widened as she stared, surprised more than hurt, into Yukimura's _softly smiling_ face.

He leaned slightly forward so that his eyes were on level with hers, and nudged her forehead softly. "Do you know, what I was sick with?"

"Cancer?" she immediately replied.

Yukimura laughed. "No, not cancer. I was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome."

Noriko raised a brow.

"It's a disease that causes paralysis in my limbs."

This time, Noriko's lips parted in surprise, and her eyes widened largely. She opened and closed her mouth, as if to say something – but Yukimura knew she had nothing to say, as he noted the blank shock in her eyes.

"So I do know how it feels."

Noriko instantly felt an overwhelming guilt in her gut, washing over her in a tidal wave. She always, always felt so simply _childish_ whenever she was around this boy. This boy, who had gone through so much more, and had come out even better than her at her best. He really _was_ the Child of God, she realized, with a sort of morbid amusement.

"I know, and I know you're _not playing_, and not unable to. _I_ was unable to. My body physically wouldn't allow me to move, Noriko. You? You can. You can, and you _won't_, simply because your mind's fear of losing is overriding your body."

Noriko swallowed.

"I know _real_ paralysis. You don't have it. All you have…is fear."

Noriko bit her lower lip, chewing it into a red oblivion. Yukimura was right, as always. And she knew – she knew every word that came from his lips, already. She knew it was fear controlling her brain, she knew it was the insurmountable fear of losing.

She knew, and she had desperately wanted it to be that her body simply wasn't working, because that would have been easier to deal with.

But as usual, Yukimura barged into her life unbidden, and pried open her eyes. He forced her to see the things she didn't want to, and she found herself hating it and thanking it all at once. Because Yukimura kept her from blinding herself, he kept her from clapping her hands over her eyes and leaving them that way.

"Look at me."

She looked up, then, and met his eyes for the first time.

"I looked at you. Now what?"

Yukimura's smile widened.

"Now you pry your life back from the cold hands of the devil."

Noriko's eyes widened.

And that was before she fled the room, hair flying behind her.

* * *

The next day, a familiar figure entered the soccer field. She was late, as usual, to practice – but unusually, she was greeted with an overwhelming amount of joy from one Captain.

Saya launched herself at Noriko, tears in her eyes and snot falling from her nose, but she didn't give a damn, because Noriko was _here._

And then she remembered that _Yukimura_ had been the one to bring her back, and all that came from her lips afterwards were a series of words that should never be said around children.

"MOTHERFUC-"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm sorry guys, I started school today and it's been insane up till now! SO YEAH NEW UPDATE, and I might get busy. BUT IF YOU REVIEW I MIGHT UPDATE SOONER? TEEHEE.**

**Disclaimer : I do not own PoT.**

* * *

Shiori Noriko was on cloud nine.

She was so, so blissfully happy.

For the past few weeks, she'd struggled, but everything seemed to be so much _better_ now. It had been the first time she'd gone for more than a day or two without soccer, but it was as if that break had been all she'd needed. The break, and Yukimura's words that had a strange way of motivating her.

She easily climbed her way back up, minus the one or two fumbles she had when she was distracted.

And yes, she was distracted – distracts with thoughts about a blue haired boy with the softest smile and the most beautiful voice.

It wasn't like her to be like this. It wasn't like her to think of anything else besides soccer, especially not during practice itself. It wasn't like her to be caught smiling unconsciously when she thought about certain things. It wasn't like her to be so _uncool_.

And the worst of all was that Noriko didn't really care. She didn't care that she wasn't being herself, she didn't care that she missed a goal here and there, she didn't care that her friends had to wave their hands in her face when she got distracted.

She didn't care, because she was so delighted whenever she caught Yukimura glance over from the tennis courts and smile, at which point she'd wave hysterically back.

Yukimura was like…she didn't even know how to describe him.

He used to be a cool friend – just that. She hadn't realized just how large of a presence he had, not until he helped her regain soccer. That, perhaps, had been the biggest thing anyone could have ever done for Noriko. And Yukimura had been the one to do it.'

So Noriko liked Yukimura, a lot. She liked him and she was happy whenever he smiled at her and visited her during practice – oh, but not like him in _that_ way, because that was silly.

* * *

Kamemiya Saya was pissed to high hell.

She was so, so disgustingly pissed.

She was so pissed, in fact, she'd kicked a ball straight into her older brother's gut when he'd asked 'hey how's Noriko doing.'

Because Noriko was _distracted._ She wasn't exactly sure what with, but Saya was willing to bet it was because of that goddamn tennis team captain. What was so special about him, anyway? All he did was smile and laugh all the time, and he never said anything worth listening to.

So what if he was a good tennis player? So what if he recovered from a disease? So what if he was the damn child of God? Not her, that's who!

Saya hated this Noriko – well, okay, not hate, because how could she ever hate Noriko? But she hated the way she was acting these days. That stupid blue-haired freak (who in the world has blue hair, anyways?) would look over to her holy courts and smile at Noriko, who would see and wave as though he were a celebrity. And then Noriko would think about the boy and get this positively _disgusting_ smile on her face.

And then she'd get hit with a stray soccer ball because she wasn't watching.

Alright, so perhaps Saya owed the guy a little big for bringing Noriko back to soccer, but it wasn't that big of a deal! Saya could have probably done it, but he'd just had the right timing!

In any case, Saya had to do something about this entire silly ordeal. Because it was getting out of hand, that's what.

* * *

Sanada Genichirou was irritated.

He was so, so tiredly irritated.

For a few weeks, it had been quiet, with a lack of a certain soccer team captain around his office. He'd heard around the grapevine that she was busy trying to retrieve her ace player from a case of depression or something, and then he heard from Yukimura who had finally been focusing on his game.

And then, Yukimura had to go and play hero and bring the girl back to soccer. Now the world was back to the way it had been before.

Yukimura kept making creepy comments about how Shiori was 'fun to play with.'

Shiori kept talking to him whenever she saw him like they were the best of friends.

And Saya, Saya now kept barging into his office for the simple reason of ranting and shrieking about how he should get his captain to stop shooting smiles at the fields because it was distracting her darling player.

It was getting tiring. Really, Saya was a nice girl, he was sure – when she wasn't being an obsessive freak over her player. Which was, well, not that often. And speaking of, he really had to get a new lock on that door, because it seemed that anyone and everyone could open the door easily without regards to the old lock-

"SANADA GENICHIROU, I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT FUCKING CAPTAIN OF YOURS-"

…Like now.

Sanada pinched the bridge of his nose and bit back a sigh.

* * *

Yukimura was delighted.

He was lost in some kind of delirious, unbound happiness that bubbled deep inside his gut whenever he caught sight of a certain girl – because she made him laugh and laugh and laugh and every once in a while, catch himself in surprise. She was like a mystery-colored pen; right when you thought you knew what color was going to come next, something completely different popped out.

He liked that when he smiled at her, she waved so cheerily, as did many of his fans. And he liked the fact that she was waving at him not because he was the child of God, but simply because she wanted to. He liked that she had such a passion for something – so large, that she'd even gotten lost once when she'd lost it.

He liked that she was vulnerable, that she was strong, that her strength was attributed in parts to her sheer naivete to everything. He liked that she had fears, and he liked that she overcame them. He liked that she was so unpredictable that at times it pissed him off.

She was amusing in any and every way.

That was why they'd head down to the park after school, where Yukimura had found her before, laughing with the local children. Yukimura didn't often spend time with people he didn't like, and he happened to find Noriko quite interesting.

* * *

"This isn't fair."

Yukimura laughed brightly, smiling almost smugly at the pouting girl. Noriko and Yukimura stood in the center of a grassy field, surrounded by several young children, with a soccer ball between them. Noriko hadn't forgotten her 'tennis lesson' – in a display of almost childish revenge, Noriko had insisted on giving Yukimura a soccer lesson.

The problem?

He was actually _good_ at it, unlike her horrible lack of talent at tennis. It seemed that Yukimura was a natural athlete, aside from his god-given prowess at tennis; the fact irked Noriko a bit – that there were some people who really _did_have it all.

The talent, the personality, the looks-

Speaking of, Noriko had begun to notice as of late just _why _he was so popular with the female population at school. Pale porcelain skin and a slim, toned body, coupled with a sharp jaw and brilliant blue eyes, he really did look like a prince at times. And when he smiled – not that fake smile, but the real one he had when he was laughing and unaware that anyone really noticed - his smile had the ability to light up an entire room, Noriko could swear up and down.

So it seemed that this boy in front of her really had everything in life.

But it was okay, since it was Seiichi.

Besides, she'd said he was good at soccer – simply good, not enough to beat her, though. For once, Noriko liked running circles around the boy and shooting goals that he didn't quite have the skills to block. Competitive girl that she was, she liked it that she was better than him at soccer, despite that anyone could have told her that.

She still liked seeing it with her own two eyes.

And whilst she'd been distracted by her thoughts, Yukimura had taken the chance to plant a firm kick upon the ball, which slipped by her defenses and went sailing into the net. Noriko pouted, lips jutting out and eyes mirroring a scandalous sort of disapproval, and Yukimura only laughed at her in turn.

She opened her mouth to protest, when she found the boy suddenly very, very _near._ Near, as in, a bare foot away from Noriko, a winning smile on his lips that left her uncomfortably short of breath, and the ball tucked casually under his right arm. He tilted his head to the side, as if curious at her lack of focus, before laughing again.

Noriko found herself charmed at the sound.

And then, Yukimura darted forward, forehead against hers, and winked playfully. "Do I make your heart race, my dear?"

Ah, Yukimura and his still-continuing game of courtship, was it?

Noriko forced a laugh to bubble from her lips and tore away, an act of casualness placed over her guise. A slight flush decorated her cheeks – perhaps from physical exertion, perhaps from something else.

And then, she realized with a skip of a heart beat and a well-placed hand over her chest – Yukimura's words rang with a sense of truth that Noriko found a bit unnerving.

* * *

Noriko shifted uncomfortably when Yukimura leaned easily, casually against her – as he had many times before, and as she had, too. The pair was unique in that they weren't still grade schoolers when it came to the delicate nuances of opposite-sex relations. They understood that a boy and a girl could hold hands without being accused of dating, and that friendly contact was just friendly contact, not some kind of formal invitation to 'go out.' They weren't hyper-sensitive people, Noriko and Yukimura, who had some kind of natural personal bubble issues.

So it wasn't strange or new, this sort of friendly contact between them – it was almost as if they were childhood friends or siblings, sometimes. But as of late, something began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

Well, not uncomfortable, per say – but Noriko could swear her blood rushed a little faster through her veins when Yukimura placed his chin on her shoulder when he wanted to see what she was looking at from behind her, and she could barely swallow down a squeal of alarm when he leaned against her as he did now.

He'd taken her hand, once or twice, with a joke and a tease, but Noriko found herself growing acutely aware of how warm his hand was, his palm against hers, and how insanely close they were.

It had her heart beating at what she was rather sure to be unhealthy rates, and she couldn't exactly figure out why.

Perhaps it was just flu season coming on, she mused, and brushed it off.

"Are you itchy, or something? You keep shuffling," Yukimura murmured off-handedly, his eyes still focused on the book in his hands.

Noriko licked her lips.

"No, I think my muscles were just stiff from sitting in the same position."

"Oh. Okay."

* * *

Something was off, that practice – what, you ask?

Well, as a high-achieving soccer team (the National champions for quite some years now, mind you), the girls' soccer team had a habit of being rather _intense_ during practices. That meant ponytails tight, shoes laced properly, and not an ounce of focus placed elsewhere while they were on the field. There was no room for distractions, Saya always barked, if one wanted to even touch the gold surface of the first place trophy.

But today, today was different. Today, at least half of the girls in the club had their eyes constantly shifting to the tennis field, and a few had had the audacity to even venture off the grass field and peek towards the courts for a closer glimpse at whatever it was going on there.

Saya had noticed, of course. At first, she mused if it was perhaps just Noriko's recent tendencies rubbing off on her teammates in extreme fashions. And then, she noticed Noriko's focus completely on the field for once in a long while, and that these girls seemed to be waiting for something to happen with held breaths.

Like the good captain she was, she'd demanded what was going on. In a, well, a bit more crude fashion, but nonetheless, with the proper intentions.

She got her answer with the first freshman girl she grabbed tightly by the collar of her shirt. The shorter female turned with a shriek and terror dancing in her eyes, shoulders high and a gulp in her lips. "Y-Yes?" she piped.

"Tell me why my girls are gazing at the _courts_ instead of at the _ball_," Saya growled, irritation apparent in her glowering gaze.

The girl gulped.

"_Now._"

Saya could be very convincing when she wanted to be, it turns out.

"U-Um w-well, you see, we, uh-"

And then, one of the more focused regulars that day happened to stroll over. Carelessly, she murmured, "Oh, I think some second-year girl coughed up the guts to confess to Yukimura Seiichi today."

It wasn't just Saya's attention piqued; Noriko promptly dropped the water bottle she'd been holding, surprise mirrored in her expressions. Surprise, Saya noticed, and _something else._ Oh, this wasn't good, she could tell, Saya scowled.

Noriko had that face again.

That face of running off and doing something stupidly reckless-

"Hey, Saya, I gotta go use the bathroom. Be right back!" Noriko mumbled, tossing a lazy grin at Saya before jogging off towards the tennis courts.

Saya's glower intensified. "That's not even the way to the bathrooms- …Whatever, you piece of lazy shi-"

* * *

Before she knew what she was doing, Noriko had arrived at the tennis courts. Already, a small cluster of boys and girls alike stood at the gates, peering in with a sense of curiosity. Noriko joined them, albeit with a slight grimace at the thought of Saya's displeasure, and peeked over the top of their heads for a glimpse.

"Woah! She's really pretty!" someone from the crowd exclaimed; and for some reason, Noriko felt her heart drop a few inches.

"They look really good together, don't they?" another girl sighed wistfully.

Noriko's heart scraped a little lower.

"Woah – he's smiling! Do you think he's saying yes?"

At that point, Noriko squeezed past the large crowd and stumbled her way forward, finally making it to the gate entrance. A few protests rose in the crowd, but died down soon enough, and Noriko came face to face with the scene-

A pretty, thin second-year, blushing and smiling at the equally smiling blue-haired Captain. It wasn't anything new, Noriko knew – Yukimura was popular, undoubtedly so.

Still, this scene seemed horribly wrong in so many different ways in her head. And strangely, as she tried to pinpoint _why_ it was wrong, no _reasonable_ answer came to mind.

She felt her heart race almost painfully, and decided, she _should go._ She didn't really want to see what the ending was, after all, she mused, glancing at the growing smile on Yukimura's lips and the girl's. And Saya would be mad, and she couldn't breathe, and she was missing soccer practice, and _her throat was closing up_-

Just then, Yukimura looked up and caught Noriko's gaze, whereupon he raised his brows with a smile.

Noriko cracked a stiff smile and turned right back around, and ran straight back to the soccer fields.

* * *

"God, Noriko, I don't understand why you're so worked up about this," Saya muttered, rolling her eyes.

In front of her, Noriko brushed her hair – for what was sure to be the hundredth time, Saya swore. They were supposed to be having a sleepover to discuss soccer tactics and catch up, _not_ act like a braindead corpse and sigh every ten seconds! Which was exactly what Noriko had been doing for the past few hours, ever since she returned from the tennis courts.

Saya didn't understand what on earth could have upset her so. It wasn't as if Yukimura being confessed to had anything to do with her, and-

With an irritated cry, Saya tore the hairbrush from Noriko's hands.

Without batting an eyelash, Noriko continued to stare blankly at the mirror, and then began raking her _hand_ through her hair.

Saya threw the brush in the air with a snort.

"Jesus, it's not as if you _like_ him or anything."

And it was only then that Saya got a reaction from Noriko – where she dropped her hand and widened her eyes and stared at her expression in the mirror for a while.

Noriko turned to Saya, then, with surprise in her eyes and something akin to mild _delight_ in her expression.

"…I think I might, Saya."

* * *

Shiori Noriko liked Yukimura Seiichi.

She liked him. She liked him a lot. She liked him so much to the point where it had her deliriously delighted for several days.

Because, well, first of all, that solved her problem of unknowingly thinking she was sick for several days. Whenever Yukimura touched her it was as if she had a _fever_, and for a while there, Noriko had almost been fooled into thinking she had some kind of new disease.

And second, the word from the grapevine was that Yukimura had rejected the girl after all, despite those stupid little smiles they'd shared. It had been nothing more than an apologetic smile, girls spread, and Noriko found herself unreasonably happy.

She was more relieved than anything, really, that she hadn't developed some strange allergy to Yukimura. She wasn't one of those silly girls, who threw a fit over realizing that they'd developed feelings for a boy. So what was the big deal? Noriko liked Yukimura, who cared, really?

It was just feelings.

And perhaps, if she was feeling up to it, she'd confess to him, too. It wasn't the biggest drama she'd ever face in her life, and it wasn't that big of a complication. It would get things off of her chest and it would keep him from thinking that his touch burned her or something, because Yukimura had been getting rather wary of Noriko.

Noriko, who had taken to leaping back whenever Yukimura got close these days.

And so here Noriko was now, humming happily to herself, leaned against the locker next to Saya's as she waited for the girl to collect her things for the next class. Noriko was babbling away happily (as she seemed to have been doing non-stop since discovering her, ah, 'affinity' for Yukimura), and Saya was taking it all in stride.

Or so she'd thought.

"And I think I might tell him today – it's not that big of a deal, right?" Noriko finally murmured, slightly breathless and a happy flush in her cheeks.

Saya slammed her locker with a bit more force than necessary, and whirled around to face her friend.

Noriko's smile vanished when she saw Saya's expression.

A myriad of negatives danced across Saya's delicate features – disapproval, shock, anger, _hurt_, and-

-a sense of something akin to _desperation_.

Noriko's eyes widened.

"Can't…can't you not like him, Nori?"

Noriko's brows raised, and she laughed – surely, Saya was joking. "Oh, Saya, what are you talking…about…"

Noriko trailed off when she saw the seriousness in her friend's eyes, and quelled her bubbly mood. "What? Why?"

"Because," and then Saya was tearing up, voice cracking and cheeks flushing with her emotions.

Noriko's mouth went dry.

"Just because. For me? _Please_?"

And Noriko, unable to say anything else, placed on a brave smile on her lips and nodded. "Of course. For you, of course."

Because Yukimura Seiichi was just a _boy,_ Noriko reasoned. And Saya, Saya was like her _sister_; in fact, Saya was more than a sister. She was her friend, her _best_ friend, her sister, her mother, her lifelong partner in crime.

Saya, whom she'd spent the last decade of her life with, who would never have hesitated to throw away her most precious things if it meant keeping Noriko happy. And Noriko had to do the same, because it was simply _how they were._ How they worked.

Because they came before everyone else, for one another.

So Noriko nodded without further questions, because Saya had said '_For me?_', and those words meant more to Noriko than perhaps any other.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: OMG SORRY GUYS I'VE BEEN AWAY LITERALLY FOREVER. HERE'S A NEW CHAPTER FOR YOU ALL. I've been so busy oiwejflkdsfs. Anyways, trying to get everyone's feelings in order, etcetera – I hope you like it! Tell me what you think! It's a short chapter, but I just wanted to give you guys something. TT_TT**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.**

* * *

Saya was everything to Noriko – this wasn't some strange version of teen flick movies, where a girl suddenly throws herself so deeply in 'love' that she can abandon everything else. First of all, it wasn't even 'love,' really – it was just a simple like. A step more than friends, but certainly not love. And second: Saya had been with Noriko for years. How could Noriko simply throw all that out the window for a boy she had just met?

She liked Seiichi. She really, really did. He was nice and funny and perfect and…he was Seiichi, and Noriko liked everything about him. His name, his laugh, his words, his smile, his life, his personality; everything.

And yet, Saya was still _more._ She was Noriko's sister, she was her best friend. Saya had never failed to give anything and everything up for Noriko, and had never asked for anything in return. She'd given up going to parties if Noriko wasn't invited, she'd given up going on family trips when Noriko was sick and her parents were away. Saya had given, and it was only right of Norio to do the same.

If Saya didn't want her to like Yukimura, Noriko wouldn't. The reason didn't even matter, in the face of Noriko and Saya's bond. Saya could have simply said "I don't like his hair," as her reason, and Noriko would have still agreed in a heartbeat.

Because they were Saya and Noriko. It was as simple as that.

* * *

Saya was being a cruel bitch, and she knew it.

But she couldn't help herself.

For the longest time, Noriko had been Saya's best friend, and Saya had been Noriko's best friend. It had never been 'Noriko, the girl who hangs out with Yukimura' or 'Noriko, the girl who liked Yukimura Seiichi.' For a while, it had been the two of them - alone in their bubble of soccer and victory and determination.

No one could have pried their way through.

Other friends were _others_, boys included.

But somewhere along the way, a small crack had formed – when Noriko first met this blue haired boy named Yukimura. And the crack gradually got larger, and larger, until Noriko had a full view of the outside world from within their small bubble. And finally, it was large enough to admit one person – or allow exit for one person.

It was either that Yukimura enter their world, or Noriko leave it.

Saya didn't want either.

So she was desperately trying to cover up the crack, with her hands and herself, but the light of the outside world was still shimmering through and Noriko was beginning to look curious of what lay outside.

A part of her hated herself for doing this to her best friend. She knew that Noriko's feelings for Yukimura had the potential to grow much, much larger. A part of her wanted desperately for Noriko to be as happy as possible, and a part of her wanted to cling to Noriko's hand and keep her close. Because Saya's world was pitifully lonely, and she needed Noriko around.

But it was getting harder and harder.

Saya sighed.

Noriko looked up at her from across the table, and raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

Saya forced a smile and shook her head.

Noriko shrugged and resumed her homework.

* * *

"Hey, Noriko," Yukimura greeted. The addressed girl seemed surprise as she turned around, hair flying and eyes widening as she caught sight of him down the hall.

She broke out in an awkward smile, despite the fluttering in her stomach and the threatening blush. She waved, and forced a bit more cheeriness into her eyes. "Oh, hey!" she exclaimed.

_You sound disgustingly fake_, her traitorous mind whispered. This, she ignored.

Yukimura walked a little closer, smiled a little wider. Noriko's heart beat a little harder. "You haven't been coming to the library these days," he murmured, voice soft as always, smile mysterious and blank as usual.

Noriko's heart skipped a beat. Did he know? That she was avoiding it on purpose? "Um. Yeah. Soccer practice. Really bad."

Yukimura paused, and something flashed in his eyes that made Noriko waver. But then he smiled and waved her off, with a "Oh, alright then." And then: "We should go to the arcade again."

Noriko faltered. "Uh. Yeah. Sometime. Not these days though – soccer and stuff. Busy. You know."

Yukimura's brows rose and before he could say a word, Noriko piped up with a: "Oh! I just remembered I had to go get something from the teacher! Gotta go, bye!"

And then she was off, jogging down the hall. Yukimura watched, confused, and Noriko willed herself to run faster.

* * *

"I think she's avoiding me." Yukimura had his head resting on an outstretched arm, flat against the table. He sighed.

Sanada twitched as Yukimura's breath fluttered the paper on his desk, before slapping his hand down on top of the object to keep it in place. "I see," he muttered.

"Do you think so, Sanada?"

Sanada's hand paused, and the constant 'scritch scratch' of his pen stopped too. He gave Yukimura a flat-eyed stare over the paperwork – a clear 'does it look like I care?' message written across his gaze. Yukimura smiled blithely, choosing to ignore it. Sanada's brow twitched again.

"I'm not sure."

More writing, more scratching sounds of pen on paper.

Yukimura sighed again. The breath blew rippled across Sanada's paper once more. Sanada's brow twitched.

"Why is she avoiding me again?"

Finally the pen came slamming down, and Yukimura's lips curved up into a smile. He knew Sanada would come around sooner or later.

Sanada, through grit teeth, muttered a "I don't know, why don't you ask her instead of me."

Yukimura straightened up, then, a smile on his features. "Good idea, Sanada!"

And as the male walked off, Sanada mumbled a string of fast curses under his breath.

* * *

Noriko was having an easier time than she'd expected. Not seeing Yukimura at all helped to soothe her feelings, and gave her time to think about things. She probably didn't like him – he was just someone she respected a lot, and the lines happened to blur for a moment. Yes. That was it. Just a blurring of some lines, that was all.

This was her thought as she pressed down on Saya's back, helping her stretch. Saya's hands inched along forward on the ground, legs in a flexible splits; the two were currently warming up for a final practice match before the day was over.

Sure, she missed Yukimura – rather, she missed him a lot. But it kept Saya happy, and that was what was important, she supposed. Saya, in the meantime, seemed to want to prefer to act as though the incident never happened, too. She continually went on about soccer tournaments and new practice methods, so Noriko only nodded and went along.

Yes, this was it. She'd just keep avoiding Yukimura, until her feelings faded away. Most of them were gone already, she was sure. Just a little while more-

"Noriko? She's over there," Noriko heard the voice of one of her teammates. And when she looked up, she found one of the regulars pointing over at her, standing in front of

Her breath caught in her throat.

Familiar blue hair and eyes entered her gaze – the familiar rustle of a tennis jersey upon broad shoulders, the familiar soft, almost knowing smile. Noriko saw, and she felt the carefully constructed net below her tear. And then she was falling, falling, chest constricting and mind jumbling into a haze.

Her heart sped up.

Her stomach flopped.

_She still liked him. A lot._

Noriko realized: her feelings weren't so miniscule as to be waved away within a few days time, anymore. No, it had surpassed such a level, and reached one where she was afraid they wouldn't go away fro a very, very long while. It was at the point where it had the capacity to become something much, much more.

She waited with a held breath as Yukimura approached, and Saya scowled, still in the midst of stretching.

"Hi, Noriko," Yukimura greeted, and a smile spread unconsciously across Noriko's lips.

"Hi," she breathed, and was about to say more when her vision of Yukimura was blocked by Saya.

"Hey. Its practice time. Regulars only."

Yukimura gave her a patronizing smile. "Come, now, Kamemiya. You interrupt our practices all the time."

The girl blushed a deep crimson, but remained rooted in her spot. "I mean it. Get off."

Yukimura looked past Saya and at Noriko. Noriko glanced at Saya, and upon catching the other gir's meaningful glance, could only avert her gaze, and bit her lower lip.

Yukimura's expression remained neutrally cheery as he shrugged. "Alright, then."

"Alright."

And he walked off, and Noriko wanted nothing more than to run and catch up. But Saya stared her down stonily, so she only tightened her ponytail and her cleats.


	14. Staying Afloat

**A/N:** Hey guys – ohmygod, it's been so long, and I'm so sorry. I've been so busy and ahhhh! This chapter isn't the longest, but I tried my best – and I _promise_ the next one will come out much sooner! Read and review, and tell me what you think guys!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

* * *

A pair of dark brown eyes zeroed in on a lean figure, seated languidly against the window of the library; sunlight found its way through the prism of the glass, casting a queer light onto the boy. Arms crossed, perspiration lightly accentuating his neck, and an eerily calm cast over his expression led the spectator to sigh quietly.

"Stop staring at me with that expression, Sanada," the boy spoke up, voice unwavering in its slightly raspy tenor.

Said addressed person straightened up from his leaning position against the doorway, and coughed quietly. "Practice is starting in a few. I thought I'd come rem-"

Yukimura got up from his perch, in that oddly smooth way he always had of moving. The jacket on his shoulders rustled ever so slightly, and he turned to glance at Sanada, one brow raised. "I'm no longer sick, nor a child, Sanada. I know what time it is. I can get to the courts on my own."

Sanada stilled at the uncharacteristic hostility. Without another word, Yukimura swept out of the room, the sleeves of his jacket sliding against Sanada's arm.

Sanada, unmoving, continued to stare on straight ahead, eyes landing on the now-empty seat. Due to Yukimura's absence, though, he could catch a glimpse of what he'd been staring at: the soccer fields, where the tiny ants – what he presumed to be the soccer regulars – running about. With this, Sanada held back a snort and a roll of his eyes.

There were too many idiots in this world for him to live comfortably, it seemed.

* * *

Being a captain of a nationally renowned soccer team had its perks – such as being able to make a grand, heart-fluttering entrance at any given competition. When one had risen to the ranks that the Rikkai girls had, there were very few players that didn't identify their faces and uniform colors right away. Another perk was simply the added plus of being able to be a bossy priss and get away with it – Saya admitted it: she had a large ego, and she liked it to be stroked every once in a while.

But then there were the downsides, such as the overwhelming amount of _paperwork._ Papers, papers, signatures, more papers – everywhere. Saya sat in the club room, legs crossed and balanced precariously on the small chair, tongue darting out and swiping across her upper lip, pen in hand; swish, flick, line – there. Another signature done.

She flipped the paper into the awaiting 'done' pile, then set to work on brandishing her name onto another piece of paper-

_Knock knock._

Hm? Saya took a glance at the clock – it was already an hour past after school club activities. That meant it was another captain of another team, for many of them often stayed afterwards filling out paperwork and various forms. Saya racked her brain – Nana, captain of the basketball team? Or Kentarou, captain of the boys' soccer?-

"Come in," Saya remembered at last-

-and as soon as the last word left her lips, the door swung open, as though the person on the other side had been waiting impatiently for her permission.

Saya's pen clattered to the floor in an audible sign of her surprise at the person on the other side. Sanada stood, arms crossed and lips pursed, eyes stern as always – and this time, a hint of disapproval flickered in their depths.

Saya rose to her feet, bobbed hairstyle swishing. "A-Ah – Sanada. What can I do for you-"

"You know, before, I'd had respect for you, Kamemiya," Sanada spoke, voice low and tone serious as ever. Saya stopped dead at the words, confusion beginning to bloom on her features.

She forced out a laugh in a frail attempt to clear the tight tension in the air. "What?"

Sanada took a step inside to close the door behind himself; although he still stood several feet away, Saya took an unconscious step backwards. Perhaps, she mused, it was his overwhelming presence that spread out and reached her, even this far away.

Just what was it about these boys? She was a top class athlete, just like them, respected in her own field – so why did they seem to have something about their presence that was so much _more_ than what she had? She could never figure it out, and somewhere along the line, Saya had realized that what she held for Sanada wasn't anger or contempt.

No, it was jealousy.

That she'd clambered rapidly up to the top, _just as he had_; they were like two peas in a pod, dealing with irrational team members and yet carrying nearly all of the weight of the team upon their shoulders. She had a considerable amount of admiration and respect for this boy in front of her, and in Saya's twisted own conscience, it had turned into a deep abiding green emotion.

And here he stood now, claiming that _he_ respected _her_?

But why the past tense?

"Because as _crazy_ as you are-"

Saya's lips parted in the beginnings of a protest.

"-you were determined. Strong. A leader who looked out for her team. I could respect that, Kamemiya."

Saya, unbeknownst to herself, began to flush a dark red. Her heart was hammering unsteadily in her chest – it was just her ego, her mind mocked. Just her overly large ego, acting up again.

"But now? I'm not sure if I can even hold an ounce of civility towards you."

And just like that, her heart came plummeting down, down, past her chest, into the pits of her stomach. Saya stilled, lashes fluttering as she blinked rapidly, black curtains sweeping against her pale cheekbones. "Excuse me?"

"About Shiori."

Ah, of course. That _stupid_ Captain had gone and told his equally stupid Vice-Captain, hm? And why was this such a big matter, Saya internally raged. It wasn't as though they were _dating_ or anything. Why did she always have to see a crestfallen expression whenever she caught Noriko's eyes?

Why did she have to face the nasty glares of that damn second year, Kirihara? Why did she have to look away from the sly, contemptuous smile of Yukimura? Why did she have to go to painstaking lengths to keep Noriko out of sight whenever that blue-haired demon was around?

And now, why did she have to face such…_disgust_ from _Sanada_, of all people? And most of all, why did she feel so _ashamed_?

She wasn't doing anything that terrible, was she?

She just-

-she was just preserving a lifetime of friendship. Because – Because if she didn't, then what would happen? What would happen to her, and to Noriko, and to _them_? What would happen to these friendship bracelets they'd spent hours making, wrapped securely around either of their wrists? What would happen if Noriko went off with Yukimura, and left Saya all alone?

What then?

She was doing the _right thing_.

Because in the end, if Noriko were in her right mind, she would have wanted this. She would have wanted Saya to kick out any distraction from their world of soccer and victory and gold medals. She would.

So she didn't have to feel guilty – especially not under the disapproving gaze of Sanada.

"What, now, are you some kind of freaking student police?" Saya responded viciously, voice rising shakily. "I think you're overstepping your bounds, Sanada. I really doubt Yukimura would have sent his _puppy_ in here to do his talking for him. No one dragged you into this, Sanada. So why are you meddling?"

Sanada stared stonily back. Saya could feel her will beginning to deteriorate – but anger and betrayal and hurt flashed strongly through her chest, and bolstered her on. "Why is everyone giving me so much hell for this? No one understands what Noriko and I have, besides us – so none of you have the right to stare at me with such _judgmental_ eyes."

Saya stood a little straighter. "If what I was doing really was wrong, Noriko would tell me so."

Finally, the edges of Sanada's lips curved into a small smile. But rather than relieving her, all Saya felt was apprehension.

"Would she really, Kamemiya?" he asked, arms crossed, voice continually steady – as though he easily brushed off all of Saya's former taunts and rants. "Or would she be so blinded by _'what you two have,_' to even consider that you might be wrong?"

He pushed himself off of the wall he'd been leaning against, and walked forward until his knees hit the desk she'd been sitting at. Saya stumbled to take another step back.

"Are you trying to protect what you two have, or trying to protect _yourself_?"

Saya's eyes widened.

And before a word could be said, Sanada was gone.

* * *

Yukimura Seiichi had gotten himself a girlfriend.

Tall, slim, and one of the prettiest girls in school – so pretty, in fact, boys from neighboring schools even took small visits to Rikkai Dai to catch a glimpse of this girl. Delicate, soft, sweet, and the President of the home ecs club. A beautiful flower for a darling prince, the rumors were.

This girl was so pretty, and so sweet, that even the devilish fans of the so-coveted Yukimura backed off without so much as a word.

The news spread like wildfire – that this girl had crushed on Yukimura since their first year, that she had confessed for the second time. That Yukimura had accepted, contrary to his reputation for turning down every girl, gorgeous model or not.

It reached Saya's ears first. She stuck to Noriko like glue that day, eyes alert for any giggling pair of lips that would possibly reveal this deadly secret to the girl. It was the last period of the day – all that was left was to finish up the notes, and bolt down to soccer practice, where none of the regulars would breathe a word.

She just had to keep this up for a few more days, until the news would subside, and Noriko would be none the wiser. The plan would work. It would-

Until Noriko leaned across her desk to ask to borrow an eraser from another girl – Saya caught a glimpse from across the room. _Oh no_. The biggest gossip in school- no-

"Hey, Noriko – did you hear?" the girl whispered as she handed over her eraser.

Noriko smiled brightly. Saya's face fell. "What?"

"That Yukimura Seiichi is dating Tachibana Mei!"

The eraser slipped from Noriko's fingers and hit the floor with a quiet, plastic thump.

Saya swallowed.

* * *

"Hey, Noriko!"

Saya darted forward to wrap a hand tightly around Noriko's forearm, the other girl's hand pressed against her sports locker, having closed it just moments prior. Noriko's face – still pale, as white as a sheet – rose to meet Saya's concerned gaze, a weak smile spreading on her lips. "Y-Yeah?"

Saya's heart crumpled at the sight. What had she done?

"I… I just- I mean…"

Noriko raised a hand to stop Saya, a rueful smile on her features. "No, it's fine. I'm okay. I'm great – can we not talk about this?"

Saya's expression hardened. "No. I mean- yes. I mean- no, we can't _not_ talk about this, Nori."

Noriko's face fell into one of mild exasperation, lips pursing and eyes lidding. A long sigh escaped her lips. "And why not?"

"Because," Saya blurted. "I-… I just. I wanted to- I wanted to tell you, that I take back what I said. All of it."

Noriko's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Saya licked her lips nervously. "Just. Everything, before, about, you know-"

"Hey guys – what are you doing, still in here? Practice starts in two! We gotta get goin, Captain, VC!" One of the other regulars slapped them both cheerily on the back, before jogging out of the changing rooms.

Noriko waved blankly, and tightened her ponytail. "C'mon, Saya. Let's go."

"No, wait, I need to tell you-"

"Saya! I said, I don't want to hear it. Let's just go." And Noriko walked out, hair swishing behind her.

Saya's shoulders slumped. Why did Noriko always listen when stupid things came out her mouth, but never when it was something worth listening to?


	15. Graduating from Childhood

**A/N:** Nothing for now, just enjoy – **but read the note at the bottom of the page!**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

* * *

Sanada often prided himself as the one who knew his captain, and long-time friend, Yukimura Seiichi, the best. The other boy was a convoluted mystery, anyone could tell you that – but Sanada had stayed by him through thick and thin, and together, they'd erected the undefeatable monster that was now the Rikkai Dai tennis team. But even he had to admit that the latest course of actions taken by one blue-haired captain left him utterly _confounded._

He'd shown up to practice on day, a pretty little girl on his arm, and the rest of the regulars had stared in disbelief. Because since when had _girls_ been allowed on the all-holy grounds of the courts? But apparently now they were, because that 'Mei' girl was strutting around prettily, heels clacking and hair ruffling in the wind, flashing shy smiles at Yukimura.

Yukimura no longer glanced back at the soccer fields every few minutes, and Shiori – well, it seemed as though she couldn't stop staring at the courts, eyes wide and half-filled with confusion.

Sanada wasn't sure whether he was relieved that his _captain_ had returned to focusing on practice, or worried that his _friend_ seemed to be dating a girl whom hardly suited him at all. Because Mei – as nice as she was – seemed to be enamored more with the _idea_ of 'Yukimura Seiichi, child of God,' than…Seiichi.

Shiori, despite all her insanity, had always been one to look at Yukimura, not the child of God, he admitted that much.

What on earth was Yukimura doing?

And other than Yukimura – in regards to his _own_ life – he found himself pondering if he'd been a bit harsh on Kamemiya. But it had all been the truth, what he'd said, and she knew it herself. Still, the distinct way in which she avoided him now left a panging emptiness by his side whenever new test scores were released.

It was a bit…disconcerting, he supposed.

* * *

Truth be told, Yukimura didn't know what the _hell_ he was doing – for the first time, he'd thrown all thoughts to the wind, and simply acted. He ran his life as though he were playing a game, randomly selecting choices from a list of possible options without any sort of reasoning at all. He'd have felt better about it all if he'd even had a negative ulterior motive for dating Mei, but – there were none at all, other than he'd simply said 'yes' when she'd asked.

He didn't care all that much, he found, about anything at all these days. Life had resumed being a boring mass of greyscale; even Noriko, too, had faded into a lack of Technicolor.

Yukimura supposed that this was how he'd always dealt with disappointments: regard it all as simple boredom, and, well, move on with his life. One silly little girl wasn't going to hold up his entire life – that would be foolish.

So he allowed the girl – Mei – to smile prettily at him and he offered smiles in return, despite the way that he felt distinctly uncomfortable in the way her pale hand fit strangely against his own.

* * *

Noriko was lost – she was trying, and failing, to figure out what was happening in her very own mind. She didn't understand anything as of late; all she could do was trail her thoughts back to _that boy_, and then feel a crippling sort of sadness because she couldn't think about that boy without that strange girl on his arm. And underneath it all, she just didn't want to feel such things anymore to begin with.

Life had been so much simpler, before him – life had been soccer, and soccer had been life. But now life was him, and feelings, and trying to figure out said feelings, and it was just-

-how did normal teenage girls _do this_ all the time? Crazy, the lot of them, Noriko sighed.

Besides – wasn't liking someone supposed to be _fun_? All those romance novels, all those _shoujo _mangas, where it seemed that, indeed, matches were made in heaven. Was that the problem, then? Did _heaven_ have someone different in mind, for both of them?

Another long sigh drew from Noriko's lips.

"C'mon, Noriko – practice is about to start," a voice called from across the locker room.

Noriko's head perked up, eyes widening as she slowly stood up – as though her body were moving of its own accord. When her eyes rose to meet the white wall, she found rows upon rows of golden trophies glittering triumphantly back at her.

That's it.

Since when had much of anything made sense in life to begin with, anyway? Noriko wasn't into the whole 'dramatic teen life' scene to begin with, and she preferred things to be simple above all – and soccer, soccer had always been _that one thing_ that made perfect and total sense.

Soccer, and Saya – two constants in this crazy thing that they called 'life.'

Since when had she started wanting more?

With a determined purse of her lips, Noriko reached upwards to tighten her ponytail. No more distractions. Saya was right; what had Noriko been thinking, even? It was absurd; she was much more suited to just playing soccer, and grinning goofily at Saya's jokes.

Yukimura was just a boy, and boys weren't simple – and things that weren't simple didn't have a place in her heart, not now.

With one last determined glance at the trophies, Noriko strode out the clubroom door.

And that was how Shiori Noriko's first love came to an end.

* * *

Approximately four months later, the Rikkai Dai Fuzoku girls' team overpowered their final opponents in the National tournaments in a stunning display of ferocious power. Never before had they seen such a viciously skilled middle school soccer team, reporters said – especially not for girls. Merciless, ruthless and impassioned; rumors say, though, that just a few months back, the regulars of Rikkai Dai's finals opponent had challenged Rikkai Dai in an official match.

Rikkai Dai had lost, then, the rumors say – but how could that be?

Just a bare few months later, the Rikkai Dai team – the _monarchy_ of the soccer world, as they were then crowned – defeated them in front of thousands of cheering fans, 5 games to nothing.

Kamemiya Saya, the sleek bob-haired captain of the team, proudly received the grand trophy, and her smile could have blinded the nation, reporters later wrote. Beside her, best friend and vice-captain Shiori Noriko, too, bubbled happily.

The Rikkai Dai girls' soccer team legacy lived on.

* * *

Just two weeks following the girls' victory, the school faced a crippling, shell-shocking defeat when their prided emperors, the boys' tennis team, lost to Seishun Gakuen. The mighty kings, the famed emperors had fallen from their thrones, students whispered.

And for weeks after that, the tennis club, though still mighty in power, seemed oddly muted.

It was in this solemn quiet that the third years of that year graduated, in a flurry of black gowns and flying diplomas.

* * *

For the most part, most of the graduating seniors didn't go far, anyway – Rikkai Dai Fuzoku was an elevator school, accommodating both middle and high school. Shiori Noriko and Kamemiya Saya, the female athlete superstars, certainly moved to join the alma mater of their previous seniors at Rikkai Dai High School.

On the other hand, while many of that year's boys' tennis team regulars advanced to the high school, Yukimura Seiichi transferred to Kanagawa Gakuen, due to familial reasons.

The two girls went on to establish an even stronger, bigger of a monster girls' soccer club in their first year of high school. In the same year, the middle school regulars established their own regime in the Rikkai Dai boys' tennis club.

Time seemed to move on.

* * *

**A/N:** I KNOW. I KNOW. DON'T KILL ME. Don't worry, the story is **far** from over – I'll explain my reasoning for everything soon, in perhaps the next chapter, or perhaps the next next. But don't worry my lovelies, this is still a Yukimura x Noriko ficlet – never fear! Read and review? C: MORE REVIEWS MIGHT MAKE ME UPDATE FASTER BAHAHAHA.


	16. Things That Change

**A/N:** Heeeey my readers! I'm back once more! Ehehehe. Not much to say about this chapter, other than I'm going to get things to pick up a little more, plot-wise, starting here on out. Sorry that things have been moving so slowly, ugh – just a little bump that we had to get through. TT_TT **READ & REVIEW PLEASE?**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

* * *

If one thought the Rikkai Dai Fuzoku middle school's athletics department was intense, one would find that the _high school's_ athletics regime was…well, nothing short of _insane._ As it was, athletics students were placed on a separate, exclusive all-sports track, where their schedules and classes had been modified to accommodate their athletic team schedules; favoritism and benefits were abound throughout the hallowed halls of Rikkai Dai, where regular players strolled about in the lap of idyllic luxury.

Simply put, the athletes were provided every single tool necessary to ensure that they stayed 'on top of their game,' whether it meant extra deadlines on big projects, or even tests that were a bit easier than the norm, so that they could keep up the required grades to stay on the team. Rikkai Dai Fuzoku high school, after all, had been crowned the 'all-star academy' of Japan just a few years earlier, with eager donations and funding from wealthy alumni and sponsors – and with their motto being 'whatever it takes to win,' it had a reputation to uphold, no?

With such a favor towards the athletes in the school, things did get, needless to say, a 'bit out of hand,' at times. Teenagers would always be teenagers, and with the entire school backing them up, some athletes found it incredibly easy to incline towards, ah, undisciplined actions. Bullying, abuse of benefits – sometimes even abuse of _teachers – _weren't unheard of in the school.

Ah, ah, but – who would be crazy enough to counter such a thing? After all, the only people who even had a say at all, were the very athletes on the receiving end of such benefits. And the people who didn't care much for benefits didn't care much for anything at all, much less the justice that all normal students rallied for occasionally.

* * *

"Takeda! You're not looking so hot today!" a voice boomed from a megaphone, cutting sharply through the shouts heard throughout the soccer fields. Immediately, the addressed girl blushed a bright red, frustration scrawled across her features. She bowed in apology to the Captain, who was still holding the megaphone, and dove back into the practice match in earnest.

From beside the sleek bob-haired (rather short) Captain, a taller girl lounged on the bleachers, a lollipop dangling from her lips. "Ah, ah – Saya, Saya; don't you think you're being a little harsh? The season hasn't even started yet," Noriko laughed, elbow-length hair curled around one shoulder.

Saya rolled her eyes. "Noriko, victory has no season."

Noriko laughed again. Silly Saya.

Kamemiya Saya and Shiori Noriko – even amongst the top athletes, these two names were perhaps the most famous names of all in the past few years. Two female soccer players so talented that the high school division had been keeping an eye on them starting their freshman year, and the youngest to have ever dominated and taken the leadership positions in any athletics team starting their first year – that is, aside from the boys' tennis team, but they, too, were a special exception to the rule.

They'd won the Japan Intra-High School Soccer League Championships the very year they entered the high school division as the Captain and Vice-captain of the team; and after_ that_, well, Kamemiya Saya was rocketing off again, determined to add another golden trophy to the clubroom this year.

"Takeda! What are you, a _girl_? KICK THAT BALL AS IF IT WERE A DOG ATTACKING YOUR MOTHER – YOUR _MOTHER IS DYING, TAKEDA_-"

Noriko winced as Saya's shrill screeching was blasted through the megaphone.

* * *

In the competitive world of Rikkai Dai high school athletics, there were two teams that had garnered perhaps the most attention any singular team ever has – the first was the girls soccer team, led by the infamous Kamemiya Saya and Shiori Noriko. The second?

It could only have ever been the boys tennis team, led by the infallible Sanada Genichirou and Hiroshi Yagyuu. Though they may have faced a surprising defeat at the hands of Seishun Gakuen in their middle school years, they were still the strongest tennis players in the high school division of the school – and amongst the strongest nation-wide. As they had in their middle school freshman days, the boys established their own regime in the high school division within their first year, a parallel to the girls soccer team's activity.

Of course, one thing had to be noted – the stark absence of Yukimura Seiichi, previously the leader of the three demon generals. Sanada led with the steadfast hand he had always possessed, unwavering even without his long-time best friend and former leader by his side; nonetheless, he often found himself pondering – fleetingly – if Yukimura would have made the same decisions, the same commands, that he had.

And although Akaya followed Sanada's every word since his entry to high school this year, even if Niou followed his lead with silent acceptance, it was apparent that the only man whom had ever _really_ had the team's utmost respect and following was Yukimura Seiichi. Sanada found such a concept hard to resent, because he, too, had only ever expected to look up to Yukimura.

Yukimura, whose ailing grandfather forced his family to relocate to be closer to the family patriarch, thus causing him to switch to a school within the bounds of his new home. He and Sanada had kept in touch for the first year, but towards the beginning of this new one, it seemed that distance had finally worn down on their communication. Sanada regretted it, but found himself unable to muster up the energy to attempt to rekindle that communication – not when he had a team to lead, familial obligations to attend to, grades to keep up-

Sanada sighed as he glanced over the numerous courts, all filled with earnestly practicing players of the Rikkai Dai high school boys' tennis team.

Since when had things gotten so difficult?

* * *

Sometimes, Noriko wondered what happened to Yukimura; she found herself staring blankly at her literature book spread before her, thinking instead of wavy blue hair and cobalt eyes and a demure, mysterious smile. And then, she caught herself, and busied herself with schoolwork again. But sometimes – sometimes, she had these _moments_, where she couldn't help but to think back on Yukimura Seiichi, and what on earth had happened to him.

She'd heard they'd lost at Nationals – a shock in itself – and after that, Yukimura hadn't been a part of the senior class that moved on to the high school division of their school. Noriko didn't feel as though it were…her place, was it? Or rather, she didn't know if it was something she should even concern herself with, to go around asking about him. So she'd stuck to herself, and told herself that she'd stop caring so much about whatever happened to Yukimura.

But it was hard, sometimes – because sometimes she remembered sitting in the library alcove, flipping through pages of her arithmancy homework, and remembered Yukimura's soft hand tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. And when she looked up, she remembered his laughing smile, the soft curve of his lips along pale skin.

And after that, she remembered the gleaming, golden trophy of being _national champions_, that she'd chosen victory over a fluffy little infatuation she'd had.

But every time she won a match, a fleeting remembrance of her first – and last – loss visited her, along with the memory of Yukimura standing beside her as she clambered back up; of him telling her to pry everything she lost back from the cold hands of the devil himself. Of him, just being _there_, when she didn't know what else to do.

And then she was back in that never-ending cycle of remembering and regretting and of 'what ifs,' before she realized that too much time had passed, and she really needed to get this stupid homework done-

* * *

Saya knew. No matter how dense people may think her, she wasn't a moron – she knew, that something had changed that month, with Noriko. When she no longer perked up at the sound of Yukimura's name, when she no longer questioned discreetly tennis match outcomes, when she stopped glancing at the tennis courts. Saya noticed it all.

She noticed that Noriko's smile was a little dimmer, her eyes a little less-widened, each time they won a match. For a while, Saya didn't understand why. She'd thought that once Noriko had finally put Yukimura behind her for good, they'd be…unstoppable. Well, they were, but- but Noriko wasn't ecstatic, the way Saya had envisioned her to be.

And then, somewhere along the way, when she caught Noriko looking curiously at the trophy, as though she were wondering- wondering about what, Saya had asked herself at first. Saya got it after that. Noriko was wondering about the _what ifs_. What if she had chosen otherwise – what if she hadn't chosen trophies and victory.

Saya understood, then, why Noriko wasn't quite as thrilled as she'd thought she'd be.

Because Noriko had had to sacrifice something for this sport that she loved so dearly – that she had to sacrifice what had been, perhaps, her first love. And that sting never really got scrubbed off. No, it had lingered, staining the surface of every trophy they'd won afterwards.

And Saya didn't know how to stop this bullet train – didn't know how to stop what she'd already pushed so far down the tracks.

With a sigh, Saya pulled her hand through her hair, eyes glancing almost guiltily at Noriko. When had things gotten so convoluted?

* * *

Slender hands rose to neatly adjust the familiar blue-and-grey tie, a sound 'II' badge along the lapels of the blazer. A slight curve along smooth lips, humor and mystery dancing along blue eyes and blue waves of hair-

Yukimura almost laughed as he gazed at the all-too familiar uniform he once again donned; well, almost familiar. The high school version _did_ have a different crest emblazoned across the front of the jacket. The door to his room opened, then, and an elegant woman slipped through the doorway, hair coiled at the nape of her neck, eyes mirroring the same blue as Yukimura.

She patted his sleeve gently, a soft smile on her lips. "Excited to see your old friends again?" she murmured, and Yukimura responded by smiling softly and slipping an arm gently around her shoulder.

"I think so, Okaa-san."

His mother laid her head against his shoulder, a wry smile stretching across her lips. "Okaa-san is always feeling so sorry to my son – your father and I didn't want to move your school, but-"

"It's fine, okaa-san – really."

His mother sighed softly. She paused as though to say something, before shaking her head; she patted him once more on the back before padding out of the room.

Yukimura grasped his book bag and followed shortly after; his tennis bag remained where it had been for the past year – in the back of his closet, safely shielded behind rows of ironed shirts and jackets.

* * *

Sanada grunted as he signed the next piece of paper; when he'd graduated to the high school division, somehow he'd expected more sports and less paperwork – how he'd been so foolish as to hope for such a thing, he wondered now. His hand was cramping and he was rather sure this favorite pen of his was starting to lose ink, but he had just _one more damn paper_-

"Genichiro."

Sanada 'hmm?'ed, eyes fixed furiously upon the papers in front of him, hand growing red from cramping. A scribble later, he paused, eyes widening and brow lifting towards his hairline; why did that voice sound oddly familiar? Such a soft – but somehow _powerful_ – tenor, the way his name was stated as though it were a sentence, instead of a simple name-

And after that, Sanada's head snapped up, lips parting slightly in sheer surprise when his suspicions were confirmed. A shock of blue hair and a gentle smile greeted his vision, accompanied by an amused pair of blue eyes and a soft, friendly wave. "…Yukimura?" Sanada managed to find his voice, slowly breaking into a rare grin.

"Is there anyone else who looks like me?" Yukimura asked teasingly, before stepping forward to offer a hand. Sanada took it, and the two closed in for a brief hug before stepping away.

It was then that Sanada took notice of Yukimura's new uniform with surprise. "Are you-?" he dared to ask, quirking a brow. Yukimura's widening smile answered his question. Sanada released something that sounded suspiciously like a sound of relief, smile softening as he rose a hand to clamp onto Yukimura's shoulder.

"It's nice to have you back, _captain._" He murmured.

Yukimura paused, and though the smile remained on his lips, Sanada couldn't help but to notice its rigid line. "Ah, Genichiro – I'm afraid I won't be playing for the team, anymore."

Sanada's eyes widened. "I- what?"

Yukimura's smile widened slightly, one side of his lips crooking upwards. He shrugged. "I don't play anymore."

* * *

Noriko shifted on the uncomfortably stiff chair in the library, one leg crossed over the other; her head leaned heavily on her propped arm, as the other hand flipped through the pages of the textbook, attempting to locate one of the reading question answers- Argh, why was homework so stupidly hard these days? Stupid high school.

A long sigh passed her lips, and as her eyes scanned the droning lines of text, she began to fall into the dangerous habit of _remembering_ again.

_Yukmiura arrives with an unceremonious hello by dropping a bag of pastries onto her lap and setting down a cup of iced coffee on the table. With delight, Noriko reaches for the coffee first, straw slipping between her lips and the delicious aroma of caffeine taking over her senses._

_She looks up, then- only to find Yukimura's features hovering a few inches besides hers, blue eyes reading over her report with amusement. "That line is wrong," he murmurs, then, finger pointing gently at one of her statements._

_Noriko's straw slips from her lips, and she wonders if Yukimura can hear how hard her heart is beating. But then, he smiles blithely, and she thinks 'probably not.'_

Noriko sighs again, eyes closing briefly. This was stupid-

"That's wrong," a soft voice murmured into her ear, and Noriko dropped her pencil in surprise, barely suppressing a shriek climbing up her throat. With a frown, her mind momentarily ponders on the voice – its familiarity, the way it tugged on the pit of her stomach-

And then she _recognizes_ the voice, even after a year, and she looks up with a snap of her head, hair flying-

-hazel eyes met blue, and Noriko's heart almost stops in her chest, she swears.

"…_Sei_- Yukimura?!" she stammers, heart hammering against her ribcage, eyes as wide as saucers. Yukimura waves a friendly hello, as if it were normal and expected that he'd be standing there, telling her her homework answer was wrong, waving at her-

"Yo…Shiori."

Noriko's eyes widen just a little bit more. She doesn't know what to say to him, not _now_ – she'd often pondered the things she might say to him, the _what ifs_, but now that he was here, she wasn't quite sure if a single one of those things could make it past her lips.

"I- I don't- why are you here?" she finally asks. _Where have you been? How are you? Did you miss me? I missed you a lot, and it's weird how I still do. Did you meet any new girls? What happened to you and your old girlfriend? Did you like her a lot? I'm sorry for what I did. Do you understand why I did? I don't know if I regret it or not, and I wish you'd been here to help me figure it out._

A million unspoken thoughts swam around her mind.

Yukimura laughed at her, in that infectious soft way of his, and Noriko couldn't help but to peer curiously at his features – unchanged, but somehow more…defined. Jaw more chiseled, taller, darker eyes – but still definitely _Yukimura._

"I transferred back to Rikkai Dai."

"Really? That's great!" Noriko blurted, before she could quite think over her string of words.

Yukimura laughed again, and Noriko flushed scarlet. "I mean- I just- you can join your old team again!"

At that, Yukimura merely smiled. "Ah – I'm afraid I don't play, anymore."

Noriko looked stricken – and felt as though the air had been forced out of her lungs. "Wait…what?"

Yukimura checked the time on his wristwatch, then, before offering Noriko an apologetic smile. "Ah, I have an appointment with my new counselor right now – I'll see you around, Shiori."

And before Noriko could say anything else, Yukimura had sauntered off.

**CHAPTER FIN**

**READ & REVIEW PLEASE :)  
**


	17. Learning Again

**A/N:** Heeey all! So. The Saya/Sanada scene in this chapter (though not too eventful) is dedicated to my lovely friend FYERIGURL, who (I don't know how to link, but just search her) writes the most brilliant prince of tennis fics, ever. Ohoho. Anyways. I wanted to give you guys a fast update, so I hope you enjoy this chapter! Read, and leave me a review about what you think, because you know I love you guys' input. Hehehe.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

**Review Replies:** Because this way is easier than responding to each one through a separate PM TT – TT A_** very big thank you**_ to everyone who reviewed – reviews inspire me more than anything else, and sometimes, they encourage me to update faster. Hehe. Seriously - reviews do make me update faster. Hahaha!

SunnyDorangeJuice: LOL OH MY GOD PLEASE DON'T DIE – though I'm flattered you get such a strong reaction to this story! Hahahahaah! It's updated, so read, and review, and don't die!

DisillusionedNight: YES, YES, the story continues! I intend to finish this ficlet if it's the last thing I do! And omg, no I don't, stop making me blush – eeee.

Coco96: Btw girl, I totally remember your reviews, and I'm happy you're reading RA again. Heheehe.

Koori no hime: Ohohoho we shall see in time; patience, young grasshopper.

Guest: You should know by now that I love cliffhangers – LMAO! But I updated! Wheee.

Fruitlessberry: JUST BECAUSE, OKAY. Hehe.

Unknown player: LOL OMG you remember those times? Hahahaha it was all good and fun, but I wanted to put a bit more serious spin on RA this time around – I hope you continue to review and tell me what you think!

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TPOK: WHY THANK YOU, I'm glad you noticed that little name detail. Hehe. And oh gosh thanks for the review and compliment, I love those like no other – baha! And I know, I know, but everything will resolve itself soon! Teehee.

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Kawaiishiela: Yes, yes – I figured everyone needed to mature and grow up a little bit, and I figured high school was the right setting for it. And the Yukimura/Noriko pairing will _definitely_ happen, we just need to give the kids a little bit of time. Keke.

A midsummer: Oh gosh, thanks so much – your review made me indescribably happy. Hehe. I'm flattered and thankful you like the story – please keep reading and reviewing!

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Kikumarucat: BAHA Yukumura can be quite the scoundrel sometimes, no? Hehehee.

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Mei: Yes, my style has evolved from the beginning – I actually went back and rewrote chapters 1 – 4 (and rewriting 5), so I encourage you to check those out, again. I'm really glad someone noticed. Hehe. And thanks for the review – keep reading and reviewing! C:

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* * *

"Yukimura?"

Addressed boy looked up at the call, inquiry in his eyes, an ever-present smile pressed softly into his lips. His eyes found Sanada standing before him, with a solemn Renji; instantly, Yukimura supposed that he could guess what the two had come to talk to him about. They were, he noted with a cross between longing and amusement, wearing regular jerseys for the Rikkai Dai high school tennis team.

Ah, they looked pretty nice, he mused.

"Yes, Genichirou, Renji?" his voice asked softly.

"We just – we wanted to know why you won't play with us again," Renji stepped forward, and though his face had been carefully crafted into an expression of indifference, Yukimura knew better. He was, after all, the leader of the three demons; he ought to know his own friends better than to believe in their nonchalance at a time such as this.

"Hmm… Would you believe it if I said it's because those yellow and black jerseys are too ugly to wear?" Yukimura asked, voice teasing and light, a stark contrast to his friends' serious tones.

Sanada's frown deepened.

Yukimura laughed quietly. "I don't know – I haven't played tennis in nearly two years, you know?"

Sanada's mask was the first to break, as confusion instantly lighted his eyes. "Why – it isn't that- it's not-"

Yukimura noted the fear and apprehension in his expression and shook his head softly. "No, no – I'm perfectly well, thank you."

The other two relaxed slightly, before: "Then why won't you play with us, Seiichi?" Renji asked, slipping into tones of familiarity as first name bases were assumed.

"Because." Yukimura's smile turned upon the two with such a chilling frigidity that both paused. "When you play for a school like Rikkai Dai – and coincidentally, a school like the one I'd attended just before – it isn't _just_ about athletics. It's about _everything else_ that comes with the jersey."

* * *

_Breathe, Noriko_.

Hazel eyes glanced levelly at the sphere in the center of the field. In, out, in, out. The sun was beating down upon the field, and for a moment, Noriko wondered if it was possible to just _melt_ into the ground. She hopped slightly once, twice, in an effort to shake out the tenseness her body seemed to have assumed lately-

"_Noriko, is soccer fun?"_

She heard Yukimura's voice whisper quietly into her ear, and even from memory, she could still trace the faint lines of amusement in his lips as he'd asked her the question.

"_Don't you want to know what love is, Noriko?"_

Freeze.

"Noriko! C'mon – kick it into gear!" Saya's voice cut into her thoughts, then, and like always, dragged her back into reality. She blinked and Yukimura was gone, replaced instead with bright green grass and a polished soccer ball in the center of the arena.

Right.

…Right.

With a final shake of her head, Noriko bound forward, foot already slipping into the all-too familiar motion of slamming against the motionless ball. The object spun cleanly through the air, past the guarding goalie, and hit the back of the goal's netting, still spinning. Noriko's heart skipped a beat.

"_Good game."_

Noriko's lips pressed into a thin line.

Why was it, she asked herself, that she seemed to be hearing his voice _even more_ these days?

Another glance at Saya's pondering frown, and Noriko ran back into the field, swinging into practice.

* * *

"Your players are looking good, Kamemiya."

Saya turned around with a ready thousand-watt smile and bright eyes, hands clasped respectfully behind her back, an enthusiastic bow at her waist. In front of her, the headmaster smiled benevolently upon her greeting; the sun glistened off of the bald spot in the center of his head. He seemed almost _cherubic, _with too-chubby features and a round shape to his overall being, suited and wrinkles on his face-

-but, as most of the higher-ranking athletes knew already, the headmaster was _far_ from so kind. He was the kind of administrator that favored excellence and trophies above all else, and it was hard to receive any aid from him without showing some sort of accomplishment, first.

He worked on a success-return basis.

A team gained a trophy? He'd award them with better equipment and more funding. It was as simple as that – and, as his philosophy followed, this was a perfect way to encourage other teams to improve.

Some had already pointed out the flaw in that, if weaker teams weren't given the materials they needed to succeed, it may be harder for them to reach such a point to begin with. But the headmaster only smiled kindly, shrugged, and walked away. His philosophy was set, and it was up to the students to match themselves to his standards.

Rikkai Dai High School was a _do or die_ kind of Academy, proclaimed an 'All-Star School' starting a few years back by the high school circuits around the nation, including numerous sports magazines. An all-kill, they called it, excelling so greatly across the board in almost every sport it tried its hand at.

Of course, none so much as the national champion team of the girls' soccer team and the boys' tennis team.

"I see you have a few potential stars in your midst this year already?" the headmaster asked.

Saya glanced at the field, then back to him, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Well, we hope so, sir. But it's too early to tell, I think-"

"Kamemiya." His voice – deceptively kind, she thinks – cuts into her words.

She froze up, before squaring her shoulders and standing a little straighter. "Yes sir?"

"What's Rikkai Dai's motto?"

Pause. "Whatever it takes, sir."

The headmaster's whimsical smile widens a little bit, and Saya can swear there's a feral gleam in there. "What was that, Kamemiya?"

Saya snapped up a little taller, one foot stomping on the ground to attention. "Whatever it takes, sir!" she repeats, loudly, powerfully.

The headmaster is pleased. "See to it, Kamemiya."

"Yes, sir."

"Hm?"

Another pause. "_Whatever it takes_, sir!"

A fond smile from the headmaster. "Good."

* * *

Yukimura stood in the library, glancing almost carelessly down the wide window that stretched across one entire wall. From there, he could see the tennis courts quite easily – Sanada's tell-tale hatted head was easy to spot, as well as Marui's bright red hair and Niou's shock of silver. Ah, ah, he noted with merry amusement, the team never did change, did they?

Yukimura's smile grew slightly wistful as he saw his friends play against one another so cheerily, as though there were nothing else they'd rather be doing.

He, too, had felt like that, then.

But he'd grown tired.

All Yukimura had cared for had been tennis – the sport, the drive, the thrill and the shock of connecting the racket with the ball, of sending it careening over the net, of watching his opponents fall to their mighty empire. Even in loss, he'd loved tennis with every fiber of his being.

And it hadn't been easy to lose.

He'd been a king – and _emperor._ He'd sat upon the golden throne, had felt the scepter in his hand, had felt the crown against his temple. And just one little brat, irritating golden eyes and arrogant smirk and all, had swept his very own empire from his grasp.

But Yukimura had always been a lover of the sport, not the castles.

When he reached high school, he had, regardless of the assurances to his parents, been terribly disappointed that he couldn't continue to play with his teammates of before. Nevertheless, he'd joined the tennis club at his school; and like Rikkai Dai, he soon discovered 'benefits' from being a star athlete.

The school was vying to enter the national leagues that year, and had seen Yukimura Seiichi like a godsend – how fitting, he mused with sardonic humor. Yukimura Seiichi, the child of God – a _godsend._

Yukimura was given preference and special treatments to the brim. He'd watched a classmate undergo an immense amount of trouble for losing his textbook, only to admit to the same error just five minutes later – and watched as the teacher, with a bright smile and a pat on his shoulder, told him it was alright. He found food credit loaded into his school card when he hadn't even added funds into it yet, and was granted a regulars' spot without even trying out for the team.

He'd tried to ignore it all, for the sake of the sport, but-

-it seemed that it was impossible to just _play_ tennis, without dealing with all the ensuing politics.

Disgusted, Yukimura had left the team, and eventually the sport, stowing away his racket in his closet for infrequent uses whenever an acquaintance asked for a light game once in a while.

High school sports were, he discovered, much more intense than the middle school circuits – more competitive, more…_emphasized._

Still, he can't help feel a slight twinge of _longing_ as he looks down the mirror, and sees his former team all bantering playfully with one another.

* * *

Saya, not without a complaining grunt, signed another document with a flourish. Her hand was beginning to cramp, but Noriko was so horrid at documents and papers and such, that Saya had taken the other girl's portion of the paperwork, too. Because even if Noriko tried her own hand at it, it was obvious that it'd end up with Saya having to redo almost all of it, anyway.

She might as well get it done the first time.

_Knock knock knock._

Saya hardly gave the door a glance. Eyes fixated on the next document on her desk, she waved a hand though no one could see her, and called a distracted "Come in!"

The door to her office (why, yes, the leaders of each athletic team _did_ get their own office quarters, luxuriously furnished and open only to the holders of the keys) swung open to reveal-

-Saya's pen clattered noisily to her desk as recognition filled her eyes. The familiar tall stature, sturdy, broad shoulders, a mass of black hair under an equally black cap- The unmistakable figure of Sanada Geinichiro had entered her study, she realized, and swallowed down a choke.

Instead, with a bit of difficulty, Saya resumed signing papers, though a bit more forcefully than necessary.

"Yes, Sanada?" she managed to say, and felt proud of her only _slightly_ wavering.

After all, while the two had often crossed paths, Saya had stuck to staunchly ignoring him with an upturned nose, while Sanada continued to pass her in unruffled silence, as always. Saya pondered, once or twice, to approach him, only to stop. Because they'd never been friends, after all. Rivals – no, not even rivals. Just a one-sided, childish competition Saya had held deep in her heart.

And after _that_ last parting conversation-

-it was hard, to come up with a reasonable excuse to talk to Sanada. In fact, she didn't even know _why_ she was looking for one to talk to him, anyways.

Sanada, it now seemed, looked as though he felt _extremely_ uncomfortable, here. Saya cackled in her mind – this office was her lair, after all, and he was just a little fly in a little spider's trap- It was here that she grasped the full ridiculousness of her own thoughts, and felt sufficiently mortified at her sense of humor.

Cough.

"Kamemiya."

Saya's brow twitched. What _was_ it with this tennis freak and acting as though a simple _name_ calling was a sufficient enough of a greeting? And sometimes, Sanada had a tendency to act as though calling someone's name was able to convey _entire messages_, and- It was plain ridiculous.

"_Niou,_" he'd say, and that damned smiling silver-haired brat would nod seriously, as though Sanada had just told him that the fate of the world rested on his bushy little head and that he was destined to be the savior of the world, _all in one name._

"_Akaya_," he'd grunt, and the terrifying first-year would jump into the courts, as though a simple _name_ had been enough for Sanada to send the kid off to battle.

It was _senseless_, the way Sanada tried to convey entire _paragraphs_ in just calling someone's name, and it had always been a source of ire for Saya. If she tried to tell Noriko to enter the game and crush their opponents with a solemn _"Noriko_," the stupid girl'd probably stand there, gaping and eyes bulging, wondering what on earth it was that Saya wanted her to do.

But Saya felt as though she'd initiated enough pointless fights with the hat-head in front of her, and only forced a painful smile on her lips. Sanada blanched – what on _earth_ was that _thing_ crawling on her expression? Was she suffering from indigestion, he wondered.

"_Yes_, Sanada?" See, Sanada, she thinks in her head. One must add _words_ to a sentence if one wants to convey an actual _meaning_ without the fucked up telepathy he seems to have going throughout his team.

"Yukimura's back."

Saya literally wants to throw her hands up in the air and scream '_Yes, he is – what in the bloody hell is your _point', but she doesn't, and only stiffens and widens her smile.

Sanada is aghast at the terrifying expression the girl is wearing, and briefly wonders if she's suffering from facial muscle cramps.

"Yes, he is," Saya grits out. "And?"

And then, Sanada gives her a look, and _this_ one, Saya understands. Because it's the very same one he'd given her that last day that they'd shared an actual conversation, and he- Saya wanted to flush a scarlet red in embarrassment at her own childishness that Sanada served as a constant reminder of. Instead, she only pursed her lips, and stood up from her desk.

Because, damn it all, that hulk was large enough as it is, he didn't need the extra height advantage he got when Saya was sitting and he was standing.

"Look," Saya manages to say before Sanada says anything else. "If you're worried I'm going to interfere again, don't."

Sanada's expression morphs into one of slight surprise, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Saya feels a vicious satisfaction at _finally_ being able to catch the monster off guard. Because, as it seemed, Sanada was always prepared, always ready, always-

-always perfect.

Perfection had always annoyed Saya.

"I know my own mistakes, Sanada. And I didn't-" And suddenly, a strange upwell of words bubbles up in her throat, all justifications, excuses, for what she's done, because she _really didn't mean_ to hurt anyone back then-

-but Saya stops herself.

Because when had she ever needed to justify herself to Sanada?

Instead, she only shrugs, a slow smile – half-resigned, half-wry – to Sanada. "I can't say I regret what I did, because I still think the Noriko of back then wouldn't- she wouldn't have handled more than one interest well. But I think… Well. If she decides she wants something, this time, I won't stop her."

Sanada's answering gaze was one of approval.

Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, Saya's brow twitched, because- these boys _really_ needed to learn to express themselves with words, not with silent eye gazes and one-name statements.

* * *

Sometimes, people changed beyond all recognition. Time changes people, as everyone knows, because with time came wisdom, experience, _maturity._ And though Noriko wasn't proud of it, she wasn't averse to admitting that her self of even just two years ago was infinitely more childish, more silly, than her current self was. She learned to realize that there were some things more important than others, and that while it would be nice to simply focus on soccer and only soccer-

-that kind of thing was well near impossible.

And sometimes, some things never changed.

Because right now, like the other thousand times, Noriko was running late to practice – _again._ She walked quickly through campus, hardly sparing anything a glance, mind on a one-track destination towards the fields. Just as she rounded the corner, though-

"_What's the matter, freshman? Don't you got any money? We heard your daddy was rich, freshie – where's daddy's money?"_

She felt her feet freezing of their own accord, and she could swear that the blood ran _cold_ in her veins at the voice. This sort of bullying wasn't rare here, at Rikkai Dai, where such an overwhelming favoritism ran amok for a certain kind of student. Noriko had seen it once or twice, but-

_"I was only doing what was __right__."_

She heard Yukimura's voice ridiculously clearly in her ear, and before she knew it-

"What do you think you're doing?"

Was that her own voice? Yes, it was, Noriko wondered, surprised at her own self. Somehow, she'd moved herself forward, feet walking of their own accord, until she stood directly in front of the crumpled, terrified first year – facing down three second-year males. They were, if she remembered correctly, on the basketball team.

"Who the hell are you-" one of them began, only to be harshly tugged back by another of the boys, who seemed to have recognized her.

They murmured furiously to one another, before-

"Che. We've got practice. Let's go."

And as soon as they've left, Noriko felt herself almost crumpling with relief, letting go of the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. Her muscles, too, instantly relaxed, as though letting go of the tension they'd been holding onto, and Noriko reached for the wall to lean against-

"Th-thank you," the first year blubbered, catching one last glimpse at 'Shiori Noriko, that soccer stud,' before running off, too.

Noriko only smiled lazily, and resumed trying to get her breath together-

"I thought you didn't like being aggressive about these things?"

And despite the stark lack of energy in her limbs, Noriko still found the will to snap her head around, wide-eyed, at the all-too familiar voice, tinged with amusement. She was duly rewarded with a sight of pretty blue eyes and blue hair and a delicate curve along faint lips-

"Yukimura" falls from her lips unbidden, before she can stop herself.

Yukimura smiled serenely back, though Noriko could detect the faint edges of _approval_ lingering in his gaze.

Noriko gives a half-smile in return, and shrugged. "I don't," she replied.

Yukimura raised a brow.

"It's just – there's this guy I used to know," she began, an amused smile spreading on her own lips, slowly. And when she looked up at Yukimura, she caught mirth dancing in his eyes. "He told me that it was only right."

"But even if that's all his said, you know, I just couldn't stop thinking about the way his eyes had looked at me, that time."

Noriko looked up to fully gaze into Yukimura's waiting gaze, a full-blown grin playing on her lips.

"Because, you know. He made me feel pretty bad that I hadn't done anything. I guess- I just felt like being a better person, then, after what he said."

Yukimura's answering smile was so brilliant that Noriko's breath caught in her throat.

* * *

And after that, as though a spell had been broken, the broken reel seemed to pick up from where it had last snapped. The library – like before – became _their place_ once again, and Noriko found her feet taking her there whenever she found the free time. There, she beamed silently to herself if she saw Yukimura already there, or waited for him to show up until she had to go.

The two talked about comfortable, safe topics – like about school, teachers, strange classmates, various events around town. They avoided things like soccer, tennis, _feelings_, ex-girlfriends-

There was always, always a careful, quiet, unmentioned tension between them because of this, but Noriko preferred this to bringing up possible bombshells. Even if there was this territory of unexplored conversation, there was always more than enough for them to entertain themselves with, because they had missed nearly _two years_, and there was always things to catch up on.

Noriko, as though things had never happened the way they did, found herself delighted once more around Yukimura's presence, like it were the most natural thing in the world.

And one such day, she burst into raucous laughter, bright, unbidden laughter, at a particular witty comment of Yukimura's (the two really had to thank that the librarian was often absent from her post), when-

"Noriko, what are you doing here?"

She looked up, laughter dying on her lips, at the familiar voice. A boy – taller than her, though slightly shorter than Yukimura – approached, slinging a heavy arm on her shoulder, and she felt the weight magnified. Clean, windswept brown locks framed a rather chiseled face, dark eyes and a simple smile upon his lips-

"…Hi, Chiaki," she said, quietly.

Yukimura smiled in greeting. "Hello."

Chiaki's grin widened. "Who's this?"

"Yukimura Seiichi – pleased to meet you," Yukimura said politely, offering a hand; Chiaki shook it enthusiastically.

"Oh, aren't you – aren't you that tennis star?" Chiaki laughed good-naturedly, before: "I'm Sato Chiaki; I'm on the tennis team, too! And Noriko's boyfriend."

Noriko smiled a small, thin smile.

* * *

**READ & REVIEW PLEASE!**


	18. Falling Slowly

**A/N:** WHOO FOR FAST UPDATES. This chapter is a liiittle longer than the last, but not by much. Bahaha. Again, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and I'll reply to them all soon! **Read and review** again, please! Hehe.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PoT.

* * *

Noriko had met Sakimoto Chiaki in her first year; she'd been dazzled by the sheer prominence of Rikkai Dai Fuzoku's high school division, and despite her already-blossoming career as a part of the athletics department, it wasn't hard to feel drowned in the austerity of the school. Athletes walked a different life than normal students in Rikkai Dai – privileges, benefits, favoritism; and always, _always_, a different colored tie from the normal uniform to remind them, and everyone else around them, that they were the _athletes_, the regulars, of the team's treasured and prized sports teams.

She hadn't understood back then all the concealed animosity towards the athletes from the normal students; hidden behind forced smiles and envious waves, but it was there, sitting, brooding. She'd been confused, wondering where Yukimura had gone – wondering if, also, he was still with _Mei._ She'd simply been lost.

Sakimoto Chiaki had been a second year when Noriko was a first year. Tall, charming, all lined up to be the Captain next year of the boys' tennis team (of course, no one had expected Sanada's regime to sweep everything off the table, then). They met when a stray tennis ball had flown into Noriko's path on the fields and she'd tripped.

'Love at first fall,' some of the students liked to quip, though both Chiaki and Noriko knew it wasn't anywhere _near_ love. Just- convenience. Familiarity. It was simply the next stage in their relationship, after months of laughing and teasing and eating lunch together. Dating, after all, seemed to be a growing fad in the school, and Noriko-

-she wasn't quite sure, actually, why she'd ended up going out with Chiaki. Maybe it had been the only way she knew how to feel comfortable with this school, to feel as though she were an actual part of it. Because it wasn't easy, adjusting to the hallowed halls of Rikkai Dai, adjusting to the blatant favoritism for talented athletes, adjusting to a school _without Yukimura._

And if one were to ask Noriko, she'd be able to tell you that she didn't really believe Chiaki was all that invested in their relationship, either.

It was simply just…a relationship, for the sake of having one.

She was sure that somewhere in her mass of feelings and confusion, she felt _something_ for Chiaki – or rather, she hoped she did.

* * *

Yukimura didn't like Noriko – he'd never really liked her, he supposed. Or- perhaps he had, two years ago. Yes, he thinks. He did like Noriko back then – back when he was Yukimura Seiichi, the Child of God, the tennis captain, and when she was Shiori Noriko, blithely ignorant, the soccer team's vice captain. But two years was a large gap, and changes had filled in the space, and both she and he were no longer the people they were those years ago.

If he liked her at all, it was as a friend; the feelings of romantic crushes were long gone, but a comfortable, soothing sort of friendship had settled in its place instead. Yukimura found that he preferred this one to the other.

For Yukimura, _everything_ had changed in two years. The moment he stowed away his tennis equipment was the moment he'd ceased to be the Child of God, the moniker he'd carried since his first year in junior high; for a while, he'd paused, unsure of who to be now that he wasn't the Child of God. The one who placed first in the school-wide exams? The beautiful one? The _former tennis captain_?

Noriko, though, was something that hadn't changed. Their relationship had never been based off of tennis to begin with, so Yukimura could remain friends with her, and he wouldn't be the fallen immortal of tennis to her. He'd simply be Yukimura Seiichi.

His smile dimmed now, only slightly, at the word 'boyfriend.'

He hadn't been expecting that.

Simply because this was _Noriko_ they were talking about, and he'd never really thought of her as someone to date. Or, he had, once, but it had- it hadn't been Chiaki he'd imagined as Noriko's boyfriend; somewhere in the back of his mind, Yukimura wondered if this Chiaki had met _Kamemiya Saya_ yet, because-

Yeah.

Nevertheless, Yukimura resumed his smile, with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. "I, ah, don't play anymore, I'm afraid."

Chiaki turned to stare at Yukimura, and for a moment found it hard to breathe. He'd heard a lot about Yukimura Seiichi – then again, who in the world of competitive tennis _hadn't_? It wasn't exactly normal for a teenage boy to earn the nickname 'the Child of God,' no matter how good at a sport he was. In fact, Chiaki had been told that Yukimura would advance to Rikkai Dai's high school division, and that he was to be groomed for the captaincy spot when he did-

But he'd never arrived. Instead, the Captaincy was given to a solemn Sanada Genichiroh, who'd dispelled all doubts of his competency in his first week in the courts.

And nobody had told Chiaki that Yukimura Seiichi was this _beautiful_, either. No, seriously; the guy didn't even look as though he were the same race as the rest of them, then, with the sunlight threading through his wavy blue locks and turning it into a shimmering sapphire. Smart, athletic, and brilliantly handsome; somehow, Chiaki didn't doubt that this boy would be earning himself a fanclub on campus soon.

Pity he was a regular student.

"That's a shame," Chiaki responded, and smiled haltingly at Yukimura.

Yukimura paused at the smile. Was that a hint of a predatory gleam, he caught?

"Why is that?"

That seemed to catch both Chiaki and Noriko off guard, and two pairs of eyes flitted to Yukimura's smiling features. After all, Yukimura reasoned – if he _had_ been a part of the tennis team, there were even less possible regular spots for the remaining members. It wasn't arrogance, but sheer logic; he was a player who would be able to defeat Sanada and the remaining regulars who had been a part of his middle school team – if they were on the regulars team now, didn't that mean that Yukimura, too, would easily be granted a spot with his playing abilities?

Yukimura's pretty blue eyes twinkled at Chiaki's brown, and Chiaki seemed to get the message: it was _fortunate_ for Chiaki that Yukimura wasn't playing, because that meant he got to keep his regulars spot.

Chiaki seemed to stiffen.

"Hey, Noriko, I was gonna go grab a drink – come with me?" he turned to Noriko with a sudden – and forced – grin, and the girl turned her gaze from Yukimura to her boyfriend.

Hesitation.

And then- "Yeah. Sure."

She turned around to gather her duffel bag, studiously avoiding Yukimura's curious glance; she could feel the heat gathering at her cheeks, could feel the way her heart rose to the rhythm of a hummingbird's beating wings whenever Yukimura's eyes landed on her. She felt inexorably guilty, then, when Chiaki took her bag onto his own shoulder and slipped his hand into her own.

"Hey, Yukimura- I'm, um. Going to go. I'll see you around, yeah?"

Yukimura blinked pleasantly into the forced line of Noriko's lips, and almost smiled.

Almost.

* * *

"Ah, Yukimura-kun - we were waiting for you!"

The man he presumed to be the headmaster rounded his desk and came to plant his feet firmly in front of Yukimura, and offered a pudgy hand in greeting. Yukimura took it in his own slender, pale appendage, and smiled respectfully back at the grin. The headmaster shook his hand so enthusiastically that he wondered if the man's short arm would fall right off.

"As you know, Yukimura-kun, we here at Rikkai Dai High School were sorely disappointed when you didn't rise to the high school division with the rest of your peers a few years ago," he began, even before he'd sat back down in his leather chair. "But we are most certainly thrilled by your return to our school!"

Yukimura nodded lightly and took his own seat across the desk. If he was right – and it wasn't hard to predict that he was, given the kind of school this was – he knew the reason why he'd been called in by the headmaster himself.

"Now- when were you going to join the tennis team again?"

Ah, there it was.

The headmaster turned to him with a kind smile, but it only made Yukimura fight to keep a chill from running up his spine. _Deceptively kind._ There was a leer in his gaze that had Yukimura wanting to scrub at his skin with hand sanitizer – hungry, _starved._ Want. Possessiveness. As though Yukimura was the grand prize in a series of long tournaments, and the headmaster was the lead contestant for the desired win.

Yukimura broke out into an innocent, serene smile. "I wasn't, sir."

The smile faltered. "…What?"

Ah – wasn't expecting that, was he?

"I quit tennis a year ago, sir – I didn't have intentions of joining the team here."

A flash of irritation, swept away by another bright smile; but Yukimura caught it before it had a chance to disappear. Greedy.

"But- Yukimura-kun, with all your old teammates here, don't you want to rejoin them?"

Yukimura's smile remained pleasant. "Not really."

"Then – might I know why you seem so averse to joining our athletics division?"

"Ah, the reason is rather personal…"

"I understand." A brighter smile. "You see, Yukimura-kun, there are many benefits to being a regular on one of our prominent teams, here – surely, there must be something you desire from our faculty in order to further your academic career? Athletes here are aided so that they have every tool they need in order to succeed."

Bribery.

Favoritism.

Bordering on illegal, but _just_ on this side of the law.

Yukimura's smile turned thin. "No, I'm perfectly happy as it is, sir."

"Now, now, don't be so hasty, Yukimura-kun! Take another week or so to get acquainted with Rikkai Dai again, and my offer will still stand – at least consider the offer?" The headmaster practically beamed at him.

Yukimura's smile was a mere line across his lips, now. "Of course, sir. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Anything for the _Child of God_ – you'd be a more-than-welcome addition to our athletic department!"

Another trophy to mount on the wall.

"Well, then – I'll be getting back to class, sir."

"Of course, of course – it was nice meeting you!"

"It was all my pleasure."

* * *

_"So uh…are these for me-?" Noriko finally asked, holding the object out at arm's length. Cranes - made of every color imaginable - hung on an obnoxiously long piece of string, trailing on the floor even as Noriko held it up to her eyes with a pinch of her fingers. She blinked again, once, twice._

_Yukimura laughed, the quiet, comforting baritone of his voice washing over her ears in waves. He nodded._

_Suddenly, Noriko's lips spread in a silly smile, too, and before long she was laughing. Yukimura - the child of God - had made her _cranes_._

Noriko's eyes stared at the long string and the attached pieces of paper – bright, in every color imaginable, a little faded from wear – in her hands, coiled around her bed like a snake made of paper cranes. Her hands cradled a particularly small one carefully, and traced the cherry-blossom print on the design. She'd told herself she'd throw it away, but-

-she'd kept it instead, hung carefully on the inside of her closet door. A smile quirked on Noriko's lips at the silliness of it all, that she still couldn't help the little skip her heart gave when she looked at the cranes.

Silly Seiichi. _Seiichi._

And even though Noriko knew she shouldn't be thinking such thoughts, she couldn't help but to think- _Chiaki never made her cranes._

* * *

_"Yukimura, why are you doing this?"_

_Sapphire eyes, filled with amusement, rose to meet a pair of brown ones._

_A shrug._

_"It's fun. And it's in the name of wooing, Sanada."_

_The slight drop of a jaw._

_"This is getting out of hand-"_

_"When was it in my hand, to begin with? Love is not by choice-"_

_"__This isn't love-__"_

_"Well, this is some damn good wooing, then."_

'Some damn good wooing,' he'd said – Yukimura found his lips quirking into an amused smile in remembrance of his own words. Ah, ah; how silly they'd been, then, how silly _he'd_ been. Obsessed with the idea of love, the reverence of it in every possible culture, the way it was idealized and romanticized in literature throughout history. He'd wanted to experience it, too – this love that made people do _crazy things_ in its name, that made people cry and laugh and sob and…commit suicide.

Though that last one was a bit much, if you asked him.

Sanada had thought it all ridiculous, Yukimura remembered – frivolous, and _madness_. Not that Yukimura had ever heeded Sanada's sighs. For a ridiculous, fleeting moment, Yukimura wondered if Noriko had kept the cranes. Ah, but-

-that would be quite silly, wouldn't it?

Yukimura set aside the book in his hands onto his nightstand, turned off the lamp, and slipped into bed.

* * *

_Clack clack clack_-

Polished black shoes – slightly heeled – clattered down the canteen's floor, and most people offered the girl a cursory glance before falling away to make room for her; after all, the canteen was filled with a sea of normal students, and Saya was wearing the alarming tie of the athletics department. And one didn't cause trouble, even in the slightest, with athletes, here.

She wasn't exactly looking where she was, either, allowing familiarity and routine to guide her path. Instead, her eyes were glued on the sheets of paper fluttering on her clipboard, a pen in her hand; she was in the process of drawing up brackets for the next regulars' ranking matches. A third year here, a second year there – and _perhaps_ they'd give that rather talented first year a chance at making the ranks.

Hm-

-then again, there was always the respect issue-

_Thud._

_Clatter._

Saya stumbled backwards, pen rolling on the floor several feet away – she'd just walked straight into another person who, might she add, was at least a good foot taller. Her clipboard, thankfully, managed to remain in her hands. The rest of her body, though, as the laws of gravity tended to dictate, keeled over-

-A hand shot out to grip her wrist tightly.

Another stumble, before her feet managed to regain their balance on the polished (and rather slippery) floor. Saya could feel her heart thumping wildly from the shock of nearly falling over, and she took a minute to regain her thoughts- "Oh, shi- I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," Saya blabbered, swooping down to fetch her pen. "And thanks for, you know, making sure I didn't fall on my butt," she continued as she tucked a lock of pin-straight hair behind her ear.

She stood back up in a rush, out of breath – and when her eyes rose to the person in front of her, that breath caught in her throat and refused to work. A pair of unamused eyes stared steadily back at her now-gaping expression, and Saya felt a flush rise up her neck and to her cheeks.

"Erm. Sanada."

Saya managed to give a curt, if jerky, nod in greeting.

Sanada nodded smoothly in return.

"So um- yeah. Thanks." Saya coughed in a non-discreet fashion in an attempt to leverage for some more time to think of anything _not stupid_ to say. Instead, she clicked the button on her pen once, twice, three times, four times in rapid succession in a display of nervousness.

Sanada's brow curved.

"I uh- okay, whatever, I'm clumsy, and thanks for keeping me from looking like a dumbass in front of the whole school," Saya finally spluttered in resignation, and Sanada blinked, mildly bewildered. Why did this girl make it sound as if he'd been _waiting_ for her to say those words? In fact, he hadn't been waiting for her to say anything, so the weird one was _her_, who obviously felt some need to say something idiotic.

"…Okay," Sanada responded, for a lack of a better answer.

At that, Saya's shoulders slumped. Her lips flattened into a thin line. Well – what else was she expecting from Sanada, anyways? Unbeknownst to her, Sanada's lips quivered slightly, threatening to break out into a miniscule smile of amusement.

The two lapsed into an awkward silence as they stood in line for the canteen.

"So, um." Saya's pen made a sharp noise as she marked off a girl's name on her list, and her eyes remained resolutely glued to the paper. "When's Yukimura going to join the team?"

Sanada's eyes flitted to her momentarily, before: "He isn't."

Saya fought the urge to look up with wide eyes; instead, she marked another girl's name on her paper, and licked her lips. "Oh?"

"He quit tennis."

Saya's pen froze. Wide brown eyes stared at the paper. And then, Saya forced herself to resume writing, fighting down a blush. "O-Oh. I see. That's- cool, I suppose."

Sanada's brow rose again, and Saya could _feel_ his disbelieving gaze on her face. She wanted to groan. She wasn't a miracle worker with small talk, and for the love of all things holy, Sanada was the equivalent to a _block of wood._ What was she supposed to say in this situation?

"So uh- some good weather for tennis, huh?"

This time, Sanada fully swiveled his head to get a complete look at Saya, both brows raised.

Saya bit her tongue.

"Aa."

Saya nearly threw her pen on the floor in exasperation – the least the block of wood could do was _reciprocate_ her attempt at a decent conversation. Did he ever, she wonder, have a conversation of over five minutes, with anyone?

She doubted it.

And then, it was Sanada's turn to approach the canteen, and Saya was hardly able to contain her sigh of relief.

* * *

"Hey, Noriko," Saya greeted cheerily, dropping a cold water bottle into the allotted space on Noriko's treadmill. The taller girl gave her a smile and a glance, hardly able to muster a suitable response – after all, she was rather out of breath, given that she'd been running for the past twenty three minutes. Instead, she managed a flop of an arm, and Saya laughed.

"Hey, um- I met Sanada just now, at the canteen." Saya's tone remained light, despite the way her eyes observed Noriko carefully. She sat herself down on the cushioned seat right beside Noriko's machine. "I talked to him about the team."

Noriko's eyes lifted for a moment to meet Saya's – she hadn't failed to catch the strange tone to her voice.

"I heard Yukimura quit tennis- did you know?"

She could feel her heart skip a beat at the name.

Noriko's feet stumbled.

She tripped and fell forward, face barely missing the screen of the treadmill; in a flash of tangled limbs and uncharacteristic clumsiness, Noriko went down, and found herself deposited on the solid floor by the moving floor of the treadmill.

"Oh my god- Noriko!" Saya rushed forward to Noriko's crumpled form. "Are you okay? Holy shit, Noriko, what the hell-"

"Owww," a moan passed through Noriko's lips, though she was able to sit herself up. She gripped tightly at her ankle, wishing the painful throbbing would just _stop_, but- "Ow, ow-" And Noriko pleaded, in the back of her mind, to please not let this be a serious injury, because qualifiers for the tournament were in two weeks and Saya would _kill_ her if anything happened-

"Noriko, are you okay? Answer me- Noriko!" Saya's frantic hands shook at Noriko's shoulders, and she had to swallow to keep the contents of her lunch from coming back up.

"Jesus, Saya, I'm okay, I'm not _dead_," Noriko managed to laugh.

She groaned again when Saya slapped her on the arm. "Ow!"

"Don't scare me like that!"

Noriko turned her bewildered gaze to Saya. "_I'm_ the one who just fell on the treadmill!"

"Oh, shut up! Let's get you to the nurse's- I swear, Noriko, you're a handful."

* * *

Noriko sat quietly on one of the infirmary beds, legs hanging gently off the side, hands clasped in her lap. The room was empty, and it made her feel rather uncomfortable, being in here all alone – it felt…_sterile._ Saya had been staying with her to wait until the school nurse arrived, but she'd been called away by an emergency at practice.

Apparently, some freshman had gotten her hand stuck in one of the machines that launched off soccer balls; how _that_ happened, even Noriko couldn't fathom. Ah, but- those machines always brought back pretty little memories, for her.

_But as she finally mustered enough determination to step forward, the metal door was banged open by a flustered looking Kirihara, who was growling and hissing at all the girls to move. Sanada appeared shortly after, looking as though he was desperately trying to stay calm while holding an unconscious figure in his arms._

_Noriko blinked in surprise, before trying to catch a glimpse of exactly who it was._

_She felt something drop into the pits of her gut when she did._

_Oh, __shit._

_She'd just knocked the Child of God unconscious._

_"…Shit."_

Noriko laughed aloud – not the most pleasant of meetings, to be sure; then again, their _first_ meeting hadn't been any less violent, either. It was as if they were destined for strange, impossibly, unrealistically painful encounters, wasn't it? At the thought, Noriko sighed quietly.

_Beep._

Noriko fished her phone out of her pocket and stared dully at the blinking screen: "Hey, Nori – I heard you tripped? HAHAHA, you're so silly, you know that? Anyways, I'd stop by if I could, but I'm kind of in a situation right now, so I'll check on you later, alright? – Chiaki"

Her lips managed to quirk up into a faint, slightly amused smile, though without much real humor in its lines.

* * *

"Woah, dude-"

"Damn, Chiaki – where'd you learn that move?"

"I'll kill you suckers in the next game-"

"Shit, man, you're on fire!"

"Hey, bro- didn't your girlfriend get hurt, or something? Shouldn't you check on her?"

"Nah, she's fine – lemme just finish up this game first."

"Whatever you say, man."

"BOOM! Suck on that!"

* * *

Yukimura raised his phone to eye-level, rustled slightly from the movement of the car. In the front seat, the hired driver in employment by his family continued on, wheels whirling forward towards Yukimura's house. _"Are you still at school? – Sanada"_ Yukimura's brow rose slightly, and deft fingers typed a quick reply.

"_Ah, no – I'm on my way home. Do you need something? – Yukimura"_

The reply was swift. "_It's nothing. Just ran into Kamemiya in the hallway; she was wondering where the school nurse was. Shiori fell on the treadmill, apparently. Though I cannot fathom how _that_ happens. – Sanada"_

Blue eyes widened. Yukimura paused for a moment, a thousand thoughts flitting through his head, before one primary emotion bubbled its way to the top of his mind: worry. He leaned forward abruptly, then, enough to startle the driver. "Ah- could you turn the car around, please?"

The driver hesitated. "Eh? Yukimura-bocchan, I was under the impression that you had a meeting with your father soon?"

Yukimura's lips pursed into a thin line. "It's very important – I'm afraid I left something at school."

With a reluctant glance in the rearview mirror, the driver turned back around.

* * *

Noriko swung her feet idly back and forth, measuring the distance between the floor and her toes with her eyes. Ah, ah – she still had a few inches to grow before she could touch the floor from the infirmary beds, it seemed. What a shame – she'd worked so hard to grow taller the past few years, too. Pfft.

Her hair, grown to her waist, now, swept past her shoulders as she looked down; they formed a thin veil of light brown about her features. In her hand, she clutched her cellphone, still blinking with the last careless message from Chiaki.

When she heard the door being flung open, just then, she snapped up. Her hair swung from the sudden motion.

"_Noriko?_"

Again, that voice – Noriko felt her heart skip one, two beats at the familiar tone. Hazel eyes widened as the figure neared close enough for her to recognize; though, it wasn't as if she hadn't known who it was before from the voice. Windswept blue hair and blue eyes swept into her vision, and then-

"Se- Yukimura?" she asked, surprise creeping into her voice. Noriko was proud of herself for managing to say even _that_, for at the moment, she felt her breath caught in her throat. It was always, always hard to breathe whenever Yukimura was around.

Curiously enough, it seemed that Yukimura was a bit out of breath, too. Had he run? Noriko wondered for a split second, before laughing the thought off; why on earth would he be running to the infirmary, anyways? "Are you hurt?" she asked, realization dawning, worry filling her features.

Yukimura turned a disbelieving gaze upon her. Why was _she_ asking _him_ if he was hurt? Wasn't she the one who had-

"Are you okay?" Yukimura asked instead, softly, slowly regaining his breath.

Noriko blinked. "I- Um. Yeah. What are you-" The words died on her lips when Yukimura broke out into a small smile, because when he smiled, it was really impossible to do anything else but concentrate on _breathing._

"I'm glad."

Noriko's heart skipped another beat. She found herself thinking in the back of her mind that if this kept up, she _really_ wouldn't even live until her twenties-

"What are you doing here?"

Yukimura paused. _Because I was worried._ "Ah- I was passing by when I saw you in here; I thought I'd check up on you."

Noriko broke out into a bright smile of her own. "Oh, really? Thanks. You're at school pretty late, aren't you?"

"Mm. I had a project I was working on." _No, I was on my way home. But then I heard that you were hurt._

Noriko's laugh greeted his ears. "Hardworking as always, huh?" She felt a strange elation to her mood, as though Yukimura's small worry made her inexplicably happy. Nothing ever made sense when it concerned the boy, anyway, but- The fact that he'd been worried about her, even so slightly, made her gleeful beyond all belief.

"Not really," Yukimura smiled. "Ah- why are you here?"

Noriko's laugh turned sheepish and she ducked her head. "Oh, I was just running on the treadmill, and I tripped. My ankle throbs a little, but the nurse is on a food break, or something, I guess."

Instantly, worry passed through Yukimura's eyes again. "Is it broken?"

"No no," Noriko replied quickly, shaking her hands in front of her. She laughed lightly. "Nothing big; I don't think it's even sprained."

Yukimura relaxed once more. "I see."

His eyes scanned the room, flitting through the glass of the cupboards, the labels on the drawers- ah, there. Yukimura walked over to one of the wooden drawers and pulled it open, and Noriko, from behind him, gazed curiously at his back. "Hey, Yukimura, what're you doing?"

Yukimura pulled out one of the white plastic bags – ice packs. He snapped the plastic ring inside, and immediately felt the cold liquid seeping throughout the object. With a faint, amused smile, he walked back and lifted Noriko's injured foot slightly.

Noriko's eyes widened, and despite her surprise, it was all she could do to keep from blushing that Yukimura was so _uncomfortably close_-

"Ee!" Noriko jumped in slight surprise and discomfort; Yukimura had placed the ice pack against her swelling ankle with a quiet laugh.

"Here – it'll make the swelling go down," he offered, and Noriko managed a weak smile back.

"Oh- Um, thanks."

For a moment, the two simply lapsed into silence, with Yukimura seated beside her, her leg in his hands and an ice pack held to her ankle. Noriko could swear she could hear her heart beating a mile a minute, and hoped dearly that Yukimura couldn't hear the same frantic rhythm-

"Why do you call me Yukimura?"

Noriko's eyes flashed up, wide. "What?" The response came out breathless, quick – jolted.

"Why do you always refer to me as Yukimura?" And this time, his eyes rose to meet Noriko's, and she struggled that much harder to breathe under his gaze.

"I, um- I just- Well. You called me Shiori."

"After you called me Yukimura."

Noriko struggled for an answer. What could she say to him? That she called him Yukimura, because they'd spent two years apart? Because she still felt the remnants of a strange pang in her chest at the last image she had of Yukimura, wherein he'd stood with a gorgeous girl on his arm? Because she felt estranged after such a long time of no contact, and she wasn't sure if she was even still _allowed_ to call him Seiichi-

"I…I don't know," Noriko replied instead. She kept her eyes glued to the floor.

Yukimura laughed. "You're silly."

Noriko looked up and broke out into a relieved smile. "I am, aren't I?" She nudged Yukimura's shoulder with her own. "But so are you."

"Well. I'll call you Noriko, again – if you call me Seiichi."

Noriko's smile was so bright that it nearly hurt, but it wasn't as if she could conceal the strange bubbliness in her chest, anyway. "Okay."

And she hadn't even noticed that he'd already begun to call her Noriko from the moment he'd stepped into the room.

* * *

"…-still, I can't believe that nurse took _so long_ to come find me; what if I'd been suffering from internal bleeding?"

And then, the two voices drowned in laughter, as they had been for the past hour. The librarian hardly spared them an interested glance, too absorbed with her latest romance novel to care for giggling, hormonal teenagers; seriously, she needed a new job.

"Maybe it was karma, Noriko," Yukimura's voice suggested in that soft, velvety tone of his, and Noriko smiled impishly.

"You think? But I'm such a devastatingly nice person."

Yukimura's answering pointed stare had her lapsing into another fit of laughter. Just then, Noriko caught the time on her flashing cell's screen: 3:47. Ah, ah- hadn't she promised to meet Chiaki at 3:30? He'd wanted to go see this new movie downtown-

"Hey, Noriko – you have something in your hair."

Her attention flitted back to Yukimura. "Oh, really-"

She froze, smile fading on her lips when Yukimura's face neared her own. His hand rose to disentangle the stray piece of grass from her hair; Noriko's eyes remain fixated on his features as his eyes sparkled with laughter and amusement. _Thump, thump, thump_- her heart beat so hard it _hurt_-

"There."

Noriko blinked, startled out of her reverie, when Yukimura produced the blade of glass between their faces with a faint smile.

Noriko managed to place a smile on her own features. "Ah, thanks," she laughed.

The two spun off into another conversation, and it was an hour until Noriko had noticed that she'd completely forgotten to meet Chiaki at all.

* * *

**READ. REVIEW. LOVE.**


	19. The Curve

**A/N**: Hey, all! I know, I know, it's been _forever_ since I last updated, and I'm so sorry! ; A ; Life got in the way. Sighhhh. But here's a new chapter – and ohoho, some more plot and character development for you lovelies. Again, thank you so much for all the reviews!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own PoT.

* * *

"- and then, she got _really mad_-"

Noriko's voice broke off into a fit of laughter. Her hair fell into her eyes as she shook with amusement, and from just beside her, Yukimura's lips were spread into an indulgent smile. And finally, when she regained her composure, Yukimura rapped his knuckles on her forehead, as if to say _you silly girl._

Noriko laughed again, and when she looked up again, found blue eyes staring into hers. For a moment, her breath caught and her heart fluttered-

-before it came crashing down, and she blinked.

Yukimura's lips quirked into a small smile. "You'll be late for practice if you don't get going," he murmured, though his eyes remained trained on her. Noriko blinked again, wide-eyed, before his words fully settled into her consciousness. At that point, she scrambled to get up with a "Yeah, you're right," while fighting the lingering disappointment in the pit of her stomach.

Yukimura stood up in a singular, fluid movement, with an effortless sort of grace that he always seemed to possess. Noriko, on the other hand, stumbled backward in a moment of lost balance.

Before she could fully fall down against the bookcase behind her, though, Yukimura had already reached out and grasped her hand to steady her, and slipped his other hand behind her waist. Even when she regained her balance, though, he didn't let go – instead, he laced his fingers through hers, fitting his palm against her smaller one; Noriko's eyes flitted to their joined hands.

And for a moment, she simply _stared_, eyes wide and lips parted, straight into Yukimura's small, mysterious smile. Her heart skipped another beat, and she felt herself falling backwards until her back met the smooth wooden surface of the bookshelf; Yukimura followed her motions, until his forehead rested against hers, their clasped hands pressed by her head against the shelf, too.

His hand was still on the back of her waist, and she felt its presence in an alarming weight.

Yukimura's smile widened by a fraction.

And suddenly, Noriko found her chest constricting to tightly that she couldn't _breathe,_ and she was sure that if her heart beat any faster, it'd simply stop beating out of sheer exhaustion. Though the only thing she could look at, or think of – really, not even thinking, given the blank landscape of her mind at the moment – was _Seiichi_, she found herself hoping that he couldn't hear how loudly her heart was beating in the back of her thoughts.

"Clumsy," Yukimura murmured. Noriko felt his breath ghost across her cheeks, and her heart beat just a little faster, just a little louder.

"Am not," she whispered in reply. She'd wanted to say it louder, but somehow, somewhere, her voice had dwindled to a quiet, barely-there whisper.

Yukimura laughed softly. Before Noriko could do anything else, he released her all at once and took a step back. Noriko nearly slid down to the floor as her knees buckled, but managed to remain upright, though she leaned heavily against the bookcase. And as she found her personal space once more, oxygen came flooding into her system – and though she hadn't even done anything tiring at all, she found herself breathing hard.

Wordlessly, she stared back at Yukimura, who simply smiled serenely back at her, hands clasped behind his back. She opened her mouth as if to say something-

"Shouldn't you get going, Noriko? You're going to be late." Yukimura beat her to the punch.

Noriko's lips parted _again_, though she couldn't produce anything to say at the moment; finally, she gave up entirely. "Y-Yeah. I'll- I'll get going now," she breathed, and picked up her belongings and darted out of the library with startling speed.

Yukimura laughed again.

* * *

Noriko sprinted down the field, slender legs bounding across the grass, with a black-and-white soccer ball dribbled easily in front of her. She ducked and swerved at odd angles as various other players reached out in an effort to steal the ball from her – and from the sidelines, the new first year recruits on the team stared with wide eyes and gaping mouths. And then, just ten feet from the goal, she slammed her foot into the ball.

The round object hurtled through the air and slipped past the outstretched goalie's hands. It sailed neatly into the goal and the net swished from its impact.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the sidelines, and Noriko turned to flash them a victory sign and a smile. From there, though, something else caught her eye, and her expression instantly brightened tenfold. The 'v' on her fingers morphed into a full-blown wave, and a laugh escaped her lips, before she skipped off towards the edge of the grass fields.

There, standing with his book bag in hand, evidently on the way to his car, stood Yukimura Seiichi. He met Noriko with a soft smile of his own, and when she raised both hands towards him, caught them and linked his fingers through hers. He murmured something in her ear, and she burst out with laughter again.

From the bleachers, Saya watched it all with a worried, and slightly disapproving, gaze.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing, Noriko?"

Noriko froze, hand paused mid-letter; she looked up from her homework to stare at Saya, eyes wide and full of confusion. "What? I'm pretty sure I'm solving this correctly-" Her eyes flitted back to her paper to check her work.

"God, Noriko – cut the bullshit, will you?"

At that, Noriko's gaze snapped to Saya, brows raised and worried. Something about the sheer disapproval in Saya's gaze had her heart skipping a beat, and for a moment, Noriko was at a sheer loss for words. Gently, she set down her pen and folded her hands in her lap. "…What are you talking about, Saya?" she asked quietly.

An exasperated sigh fell from Saya's lips. "Do you think the rest of the world is _blind_, Noriko? I've seen the way you look at Yukimura-kun," she said, though the words 'and the way he looks at you' went unsaid. "I'm not criticizing the way you spend your time with him – but I'm reminding you that right now, you're Chiaki's girlfriend."

At that, Noriko's eyes widened, as if in realization. And at the sheer horror in her gaze, Saya was able to discern that such things had never once crossed her friend's mind. Her eyes softened into one of near debilitating sympathy, and she reached across the table to lay a hand gently on Noriko's. "Noriko – do you love him?"

"Who?" was the only whisper that Noriko could manage to say.

"Yukimura-kun."

"I-"

When Noriko turned her gaze to Saya, she very nearly felt her heart break at the sheer _loss_ in their reflection; she looked as though she were lost, stranded and without the faintest of ideas how to disentangle herself from the grave. Noriko's hand began to tremble slightly underneath Saya's.

"I don't- I don't love him," she managed to breathe.

Saya's eyes flitted to Noriko's, pinning her with a pointed stare.

"I _don't_," Noriko insisted, louder.

_But I like him. A lot. Very, very much. So much, that it's hard to breathe-_

"Make up your mind, Noriko," Saya murmured, though her tone was deceptively kind in comparison to her words. She gave one last squeeze to Noriko's hand, before getting up and leaving the room.

For the next hour, Noriko stared mutedly at her textbook, watching the black lines of text bleed into nothing in her vision.

* * *

She couldn't do this – she couldn't keep spending time with Seiichi, talking, laughing, _falling_-

Chiaki was her boyfriend, now, and whether or not she liked him, or loved him, or had feelings for him were of no consequence. Seiichi had left, two years ago, and she'd been _alone_ – and though Chiaki may not have been the person she'd been looking for, he'd been the one to extend her a hand. She couldn't just _leave_, not simply because Seiichi had just decided to _reappear_-

She didn't want to be that kind of a selfish person. _Seiichi_ had always been the one chastising her for being so 'blasé' about everyone else's affairs, for having such a stark numbness towards events out of her own life and soccer – and she'd been trying to become the kind of better person that Seiichi would have liked to be friends with. And somewhere along the road, she'd come to realize what a terribly selfish person she'd always been, always content to do whatever pleased her in the spur of the moment, without a thought as to how it could affect others.

She had to stop seeing Seiichi.

Because every day, every hour, every minute and every _second_ she spent with him was just _how much more_ she fell for him. Already, she felt herself pressed against a cliff; just _one more day_, and she could be flung backwards, falling, falling, into that endless abyss.

And in the end, it would be her heart that would be broken, and she-

Noriko's lashes fluttered as she glanced up at Yukimura, now, who sat just beside her in the library's loveseat, his own gaze peacefully drifting across the pages of the book he held in his hands.

Her first experience with romance – or just _liking_ someone – had been unpleasant, at best. It had hurt, and she'd always, always been confused, never quite sure with where she stood. She didn't want it again. And there was _Chiaki_, and she just-

"Hey, Seiichi," she prodded, shifting so that she could face him, her legs tucked beneath her.

"Hmm?" His gaze never drifted from the book.

"Um – I don't think I can come to the library anymore after school."

At that, Yukimura's eyes drifted upwards to meet her gaze, as if mildly curious. "Hm?" he repeated.

Noriko couldn't bear to meet his eyes anymore, and she dropped her gaze down to her lap; she stared at her fingers, fumbling and clasping together, almost nervously. "I just- I don't know, I think I've been slacking off too much in soccer, you know, and _Chiaki_'s been complaining that I haven't been spending enough time with him and-"

But Yukimura was no longer listening. Instead, he stared levelly at her through steady blue hues, the amused smile long gone from his lips. He wasn't a _fool_, he wanted to say – that he'd already heard _this tone_ from her voice, over two years ago. That this was the tone when she grew frightened, when she turned into an immature child-

-and Yukimura was done playing hide and seek.

His hand reached out to grasp her wrist.

Abruptly, Noriko's voice cut off, and she turned wide, _terrified_ eyes to Yukimura's pointed stare. And when she saw his eyes – almost _accusing_ – she felt her heart skip one, two, three beats, until she nearly had to gasp for breath.

"Don't, Noriko," he murmured.

Her chest constricted.

"Don't what?" her voice was hardly above a whisper.

"Don't run away – again."

Air. She needed air.

"We're not children anymore, Noriko. I'm tired of running after you whenever you get the slightest bit afraid. Don't you think it's time for us to stop playing that game?"

She couldn't _breathe_-

"Why are you so afraid, Noriko?"

She felt the floor give out beneath her, because the answer – the answer to his last question, so riddled with implications and what ifs – was so, so achingly clear in her mind.

* * *

"I think I do, Saya."

Saya could only blink, torn between disapproval and sheer surprise, as she stared at Noriko – Noriko, who had appeared unannounced upon her doorstep, hair askew and out of breath. And _that expression_ – that expression, terribly haunted and terrified of something unfamiliar, was so much scarier upon Noriko's features.

Because it wasn't like Noriko.

"What? What are you- Oh, come inside, you dolt," Saya sighed, and moved to let Noriko in.

She stopped, though, when Noriko shook her head wordlessly. She quirked a brow.

"I think- I think I really, really do."

Jesus, had Noriko been spending time with Sanada? Now _she_ was cutting out important parts of the sentence, and expected Saya to understand.

"You think you do _what, _Noriko?" Saya sighed exasperatedly.

"Love him."

At that, Saya's own gaze raced to meet Noriko's. "…What?"

"I think I love him, Saya."

Noriko shivered, and her hand, which rose to grasp the doorway, trembled. "Wh- What do I do?"

And in those four words, Noriko had conveyed the entirety of her nightmares and her fears and the cruel realities of the world, and she seemed so frightened, that Saya couldn't do anything but to pull her in for a hug.

Noriko sagged against Saya as her own arms came to wrap tightly around her friend's shoulders. She buried her face against Saya's arms, and a quiet sob escaped her lips.

"I _love him_, Saya-"

"I know, Noriko. I know."


End file.
